A Pale Scrawl
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The one below

6/25/2016

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Picture
Cemeteries designed to be inviting
Green lawns
Tall trees
Monuments marking the placement of human husks

They've never invited me
These sunlit places
Dappled with the grief of those left behind
Sadness mounded like grave earth
Radiates outward
Seeps into my pores

These places aren't peaceful
Distracted from my own grief for the current loss
By the fear of stepping on the past
I don't believe in ghosts
Or an afterlife
Yet I worry my footfalls will be felt
Through all that dirt
By the one below
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