A Heart’s Putrefaction

There was a time I needed her the most.

Or myself for that matter.

She proved that she was useless.

Her pride would always stand in her way.

Her unwillingness to be sensitive, her incapacity.

I had never felt so isolated and emptied of warmth.


Everything comes with a price tag.

Her friendship; me holding up her mirrors around her.

She wouldn’t leave her own skin for a moment.

And if she felt pain the whole world would suffer.

Transfer it onto everybody else, liberate herself.

Let others deal with the shortcomings of life.


Portrait of a Lady” by Charles Edward Perugini (1839-1918)

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