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A Quiet Kill

Your absence was the silence of a dead rabbit on the road. In the middle of the night velvet blood crochets through the cracks in the pavement as those unwanted memories you force fed me. You are the broken bones and gauged eyes, but I am the road, the road you fleeted across to reach your grassly home. The bridge for you and nothing more. So I left tire marks on your once smooth fur to remind you who is now using who.

A Quiet Kill

Your absence was the silence of a dead rabbit on the road. In the middle of the night velvet blood crochets through the cracks in the...