At your lowest point
broken and wounded
lying on the floor
black blood gushing
from your broken joints
I held you
I wept over you.
You were not my lover
you were not my mother
you were not my father
not my brother my sister
you were not my friend.
You were someone
and I was someone else
who cared for you
only in that moment.
Good stuff here
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Thanks Tony. Appreciate hearing from you.
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