No.4

You drew for me.
You cycled late and you painted
with hands so thin and delicate I could
snap them. I wanted to snap you,
destruction run rampant I was cruel
and I was older, too much to do.
Your ears stretched wider than I’ve seen before,
you were always listening out
ready for more of my sadness.
And your clothes were too small
for my chest, cut my lungs short,
pulled my nerves taut.

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