Trying to Google Hope, not Death

Trying not to go backwards which involves not

Sexting nameless faces, existential dread,

Looking up death related Dickinson poems,

And reading as if a sleuth the few poems that

Once caused a flutter and then a nose dive into hyperventilation.

However the first thing I noticed was the dramatic exit from my Wellness

And I became a being almost sending dirty pictures (sounds like public sacrifice),

And trying to make out with Nostalgia and Death at the same time.

I am thinking of the library of poems I once dedicated to a man

Who’s one line “I could never love someone like you,”

Seemed to have held its weight the past three years

And perforated my ear drum from hearing new music.

I turn into a mourner of another man who

Seduced me with his normalcy but ran a circus in between lips of a smile.

Everywhere I go there is a wedding and a flower girl, tossing lovingly

Utter destruction for me.

She tosses the pain as if reckoning one day I will stop running,

Let it rinse over me with its shredded paper flakes

And I will stop running backwards.

Forget decimation is the charade.

Google hopeful poems for Emily Dickinson instead.

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