Forward Thinking
A Poem by Brigid Cooley
If they ever decide to pick apart my poems in classrooms,
if they begin to dissect my feelings,
peel back the layers,
unpack the similes,
cut up the metaphors,
break the words down until all that is leftover are definitions abd empty promises,
I hope that they find your name lit up in lights somewhere, and that they discover pieces of me scattered about in the aftermath of us.
I hope that all they find is love.
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