I have to live
With this empty jar
On my desk
Wishing I could fill it
With anything other
Than pain
That ugly brew
Of putrid envy
And my projected issues
The more you stir
The worse it gets
Digging up detritus
Of my own confusion
And outrageous falsehoods
You can’t stir dirty water
And expect it to get clear
So better this empty jar
With my reflected face
Filled with silence
And what might have beens
Than a wounded
Innocent’s heart
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