Perpetual Disaster (Sonnet XXIII)

passionate fights
with bladed words
we speak
from places of surety

picking up 
the shredded parts
of our hearts
starting over
with glass shards

we are 
not whole
there’s damage
gaping holes
we’ve grown to ignore

individual counseling 
and couples therapy

this is us 
it's too late 
to make a fuss
let's call it ... love

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