Prose and Poetry for Pain

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I Keep Walking Back to the Bloody Floor

I keep walking back to the bloody floor

My toes always expect a pasture

Instead, shattered glasses adorn

The shiny surface with forlorn

My feet mistake pain for pleasure

My eyes only fix to whom I adore

Slowly I let the shards sink deep

As if them, I was destined to keep

With limp, I walk under the sun

Trails of ache follow along not done

I stop to peek at my soles

Sparkles flew off of the holes.

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