Part of me died somewhere

Part of me died somewhere that night
don’t ask me which part.
Part of me was hit with a brick wall,
Hard, tasted the salty bitter mix of
Blood diluted with tears.
It hit, hurt.
But its good when it hurts too much –
You simply don’t feel anything at all.

Part of me died somewhere that night.
Or was it the night before or the night after.
Some describe it as a dam breaking and releasing.
There are secrets we keep, vainly
Because they are things we ought to say
But didn’t.
And there are secrets we don’t really keep.
And there are secrets we keep.
And not keeping them is like dying a little, giving up.

Part of me died somewhere that night
When I thought I was done dying.

Part of me died somewhere

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