Another Day

It was like vomit
building in my stomach,
butterflies molding
and decaying,
past the point of fluttering,
I had no choice
but to call that night,
hoping not to gag
on my words
as I begged for forgiveness
hoping you would remember
our times in the forest
or on the dock,
and after hearing
my tears
your voice smiled
and cleaned away
the rot growing
so there would be
another day

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