He writes to unearth a pit
in the deepest recesses of his being,
shovelling out tiny bits
of his embalmed heart,
with a pen so mighty,
exuding an ink that heals.
Alas, it ain't a wound to heal.
It's probably even worse;
like a void.
A void that's already done
with the healing.
And now, it's just there.
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