fallacies were the threadMature

Fallacies were the thread
that had sewn us up again
and again and again, every
time your true colors
broke skin and burst open
blood vessels the way
you popped open the
fortune cookies
you always said tasted
like sugar and cardboard.

But these stitches aren’t
made to last, they’re quick
fixes and we’re bleeding out.
Do you even remember
the arrangement of words
you used to bind us up?
Could you repeat the spell
if I wanted to close my eyes
and postpone the ending
we both know is coming?

The End

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