I hold my breath, sobs tethered
behind a faltering smile.
Your words fasten like a knife
in the grove of my intestines.
I never leave enough
room for goodbyes.

From the river’s edge
the willow’s shriek,
long limbs contorted
with each torn exhale.
Possessed with grief
I choose my reply carefully
but the delivery still scars.


3 thoughts on “Sunday Writing Prompt “It’s All In The Title”

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