What I can’t say is killing me—

A lump in my throat,

A scream that I swallow,

A swift turn inwards.

Distance is a nightmare—

The past is untouchable.

My every idiocy

Remains unchanged.

I could still speak

If I knew how to do it.

Every new moment watching

While the tree dies again.

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About Vince Stephen

You can find information about me on my blog's "About" page.
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