It has always been
disastrous, this
feeling of impending–
tonight I lie here
howling, claws
extended,
raking through the black,
reaching for the light.
I never know
what’s coming;
I never can
get the best of it,
the way you seem to
get the best of me,
every time.
Circling back,
I come around,
I come to you,
I ache for you,
this breakable, broken, unspoken hope–
it holds its breath
alongside me.
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