It wasn’t always like this,
words sharp as daggers,
thrown with force,
maximum impact,
and only in the recounting,
was the cost ever measured,
the loss actuarially realised.
It wasn’t always like this,
joy in hearing your voice lilting in the morning,
sunrise the pleasure that life meant it to be,
a kiss and a hug the measure of that satisfaction,
all of this comes slowly back to me
wrapped in the bitter regret of that final spoken word.
It will never be like that again.
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