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the known unknown

i sleep,with a broken mirror
by my bed.
screeching tires
in my head
running horses,
inside my chest
there's a throbbing silence;
a regular guest

i speak,
with a surface
skimming tone
a notion that i'm unimpressed.
"you haven't grown".
the voice inside my head,
a fact I can't digest:
"you should have known"

i cry,
with a hidden sympathy
turning my stomach, tight.
wish you thought
i was the thing
that you did right,
although you said
you love me, so
my heart knew lies,
i didn't know

i laugh,
with a broken record sound,
it is out of practice.
the obvious absence
of sincerity takes over-
emotion detaches
i'm failing, at fooling myself,
he chose her

i walk,
with an unbalance
to my step.
a pulling rope
around my heart,
a blind old man
behind my eyes
searching for hope-
who holds the rope?

Casile Hayward

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