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Should have been
The door creaks open
My heart in my feet
Bottles on the floor
Cigarette butts on the loveseat
Heavy limbs dragging me down
Locked in place
I’m jostled
By the shimy
and the shuffle
As the sour faces broke it all down
The life that was created here
Here where a life was ended
Forever more my heart stays on replay
of the day i was to cowardice
To sustain
How many hours of the day did we lose on that hot August day
In a loop
Of should have been moments
And unspoken Words
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I wrote this poem about the process of going through my mothers things when she passed.