Miranda (mandydax) wrote,
Miranda
mandydax

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To the Bereaved

Cry over me like I'm spilled milk.
Let your words become a howl.
Reach for me though I'm no longer there.
Don't you see these coins on my eyes?
There's no way for me to respond,
Not with these stitched closed lips,
These posed hands upon my chest,
My formaldehyde features frozen forever.
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