Typing Heartache

What fresh sting is this
Heart dipped in something like formaldehyde
Not sure what made dissecting tools necessary
Couldn’t be another pin prick
Could I run exploratory marathons across all my favorite cities
Find the poverty minstrels playing nostalgic tunes in public parks
I can almost feel a pulse in Boston now
I can almost touch the soul of Chigcao
A tremor tells me Chattanooga keeps brewing coffee
Can you glimpse electricity flashing from NYC?
It comes back again
I’m missing
I’m missing something about someone who wasn’t exactly you
I can’t read the things I’m writing
But I feel the lestters drip from my fringertips to spell I miss you
Over and over
You not someone I’ve met
You’re not someone I know
You’re not you’re not
Those letters
You’re not drip like tears out of finger tips
You’re that aching pain of loneliness creeping out onto keyboard alphabets from the dirt underneath my painted nails
I felt my soul die a little I say with a smile

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