{"sf1_id":129764,"sf2_id":"Jewo0vMe","title":"A Bullet And A Rose","author":"NikoShepherd","words":58,"posted_at":"2010-03-05T23:44:00.000Z","tags":["Poetry"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/129764-a-bullet-and-a-rose","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/Jewo0vMe","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/1f/0a/1f0a2acf-4ce9-463a-8fd4-26f116a830f4","description":"","content":"Sands of change run through my fingers, but no grain grasps. Souls heal as the skin; patched but its happening not forgotten. The cuts and contusions force nothing into my pattern. Only guilt and grief to which a cure for this is either of two. Times partial heal to the wound, or a bullet to shatter the cycle.  \n  \n\n"}