D. (dalaruan) wrote,

and next year's words await another voice

Closed doors.

Fallen by the wayside, once, twice, too often.

The unexpected suicide of someone close, yet not close enough.

Chapters I closed, once, twice, too often.

Open a new one, the pristine pages ready for the paper knife.

This is to you, you and you.

All of you. All of me.

Tags: loss, solitude

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