Gone

She’s gone, they say,

and with those two words,

I break.

Cleanly.

Evenly.

Right down the center.

Coming undone is

my specialty;

apparently

it was hers

too.

There’s

a reason

for everything,

they tell me, but

I see no reason

for dead

children.

There is no comfort

for me

in a heaven

that wants

dead children.

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