"I can't," I said
But we both know I can
I can let go of your hand
I can, but it's the last thing I wantJust the thought of it is burning my heart
Turning the tiny pieces into dust
I'll grant whatever you ask
Just please, not this one
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YOU ARE READING
Poems of Confession
PoetryWords I opted not to confide Scattered pieces of me, hidden inside He who held them, now nowhere to find Gone, leaving me behind
plea
"I can't," I said
But we both know I can
I can let go of your hand
I can, but it's the last thing I wantJust the thought of it is burning my heart
Turning the tiny pieces into dust
I'll grant whatever you ask
Just please, not this one