have shovel, will fail

there is a
smooth transition
going from
open arms
to ending in
open wounds
subtle aggressions
become akin to
savage attacks
bountiful riches
turn into
a bankruptcy of
emotional investment
then a flurry of
embers flickering
in the still
spring morning
are the only
remnants of
a past gone
to ashes

i carry
a rusted shovel
to dig my way
through the
littering the
broken sidewalk
in front of me
shoulders hunched
from accepting
the lion’s share
of the blame
it isnt easy
for others to
admit what they
callously have done
while i was
trained from birth
to acknowledge
it was my fault
as ashen banks
suffocate the
path i walk alone

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