Brown black hair blown asunder
amidst the crimson pool
and patches of your memory
in black and bloody rivulets
running down the sofa
That tacky, funny sofa
that always made you laugh
Where we sat
and wrote our songs,
and drank coffee, black and hot.
The very funny sofa where you perched,
wrote those final words
Where you pulled a foolish trigger
and took your final breath
The prescribed medication
to remedy
your life
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