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Alone in Arkansas
I sit here, alone in Arkansas,
Trying not to believe he’s let me go.
The iron pellets of rain pierce my chest,
But I sort of get used to it, by now.
And the highway blurs down to the faded hills,
And a grey glare glows in the sober sky.
I lift a hand to my shoulder to check,
No slender hand grasps me so close.
And I feel the pristine tears scar my face,
Trying not to believe he’s let me go.
The sky is obliterating into shreds of black,
But I sort of get used to the ice cold.
And the waterfall pounds against the rocks,
As I try to ease the pain I can’t put out.
I lift a hand to my mouth to check,
No full lips are pressed against mine.
And I feel the quaking sadness explode,
Trying not to believe he’s let me go.
I sit here, alone in Arkansas,
Trying not to believe he’s let me go.
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