365 Days of Poetry: Day Three-Hundred and Fifty-One

paid a hitman.
no view of the blood.
this is the result of lust.
overwhelming love.

ends of ends.
no sense of home.
this is what it’s like.
to fully be alone.

wish I hadn’t killed us.
but it seems what I do.
breaking over loss of home.
crying out for June.


About June Faramore

Writer of fantasy, mainstream, and young adult fiction. Poet and sketcher. Mother. I read a lot and love cheese. Guitar playing singer-songwriter. I also enjoy stepping on the cracks in the sidewalk. View all posts by June Faramore

this side, that side

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