maybe

maybe i remember the low,
cold feeling of concrete
where i lay, sleeping…
maybe i remember how the ground
felt under my feet as i made
my way through tunnels of pain
to end up in that same place…
maybe i remember the room
and the peeling paint and the
ripped wallpaper as i stared into
the distance pretending
that you cared and i was safe…
maybe i remember how you left
that day- as if i was trash to be
thrown away…
maybe this bent mind would rather
forget you and that place and the
broken pieces that linger still
behind my face

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