It was always grim,
the tenth day of nothingness,
and now I worried about all three of you,
out there,
in the snow,
with disparate endings,
and I couldn't sleep at night,
kind of the way people have survivor's guilt,
and I wanted to be a better person because of you,
all of you,
but it was on this day,
tenth of all,
that I struggled to rise above it,
and to ask of other people were okay,
I just go to selfish today,
always on this day,
but maybe one day,
maybe,
I won't reign myself to the possessive nature of pain,
one day,
yes,
I was sure of it
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