It didn’t start with me.
It never does.
We were taught to give,
to shrink,
to call absence love.
And they
often without knowing
repeat.
So something breaks quietly
inside what we call family.
Until one day,
someone stops.
And the inheritance trembles.
@newgirldark
-
Autor:
NewGirlDark (Seudónimo) (
Offline) - Publicado: 27 de abril de 2026 a las 16:31
- Comentario del autor sobre el poema: Not everything we inherit is meant to be kept.
- Categoría: Carta
- Lecturas: 5
- Usuarios favoritos de este poema: Poesía Herética, Mauro Enrique Lopez Z., Santiago Alboherna
- En colecciones: Poems.

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