It was like into a black hole my life was ejected
If pain had been running for presidency, it would have been elected
Now when I’m on my knee the pain feels more infected
Now when I think of you my heart feels more congested
Will you ever tell me why my heart was not accepted?
Will you take all my love and put it in a necklace?

© Delia Ross. 2019

“Where do I put the love?”

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