Poetry of Loss
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She was the one who made you laugh at yourself, who brought the good wine and the best advice. Trailblazing, authentic, and carefree — this is how she’ll be remembered.
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I didn’t just twist my ankle; I didn’t just scrape my knee. This isn’t a “Rub some dirt in it” Kind of pain. This isn’t a broken bone, This isn’t surgery recovery. No – this feels like My chest ripped open,My heart torn out. This is the hurt people sing about. The kind that lingers,The
Lyrical Logic 