carry it better next time

we carried that love around inside us
like some disease
like some kind of cancer we never bothered to fight
we could never beat it

who would want to
who wishes to rip their guts out thinking it would distract from the tears
leaving the under parts of your eyelids raw
i still remember kitchen counters and metal walls and nakedness and small white shirts standing in front of a toilet on a cold wooden floor staring at buddhist monks who smiled back not knowing everything would be dead soon
they smiled back is what mattered
and to them everything is still alright
and what i carried around inside me did not flush like i had hoped

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