Syllables

Her name is filled with syllables no longer pronounced within my existence,
Three too many, one too short, a two syllable word that even my battered, hardened heart couldn’t hold,
A complete word, spoken with one movement of the tongue, with its four letters overused, it turned stale and boring,
She couldn’t take it, what she was hearing, so she left,
And those syllables were no longer mentioned, ever.
Even so they still carry the deepest remembrance, and the loudest echo as it resonates in the depth of my now empty heart.

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