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Jul 2014
We are the clothes,
You hung up to dry,
But left out in the dark,
Soaked through by rain.

We are not forgotten,
- just unimportant.
Me, seemingly the least.

You'll tell her what's wrong,
Underlying the burden,
And allowing the satisfaction,
Of validation to balm,
You're careless actions.

I don't even get that,
You give me nothing but a gap.
This vast expanse of emptiness
That serves as a constant reminder,
Your leaving,
And I never mattered.

I could call you selfish,
-I guess that's what you are,
But I'd only regret it,

*I already miss you.
Pushing Daisies
Written by
Pushing Daisies
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     medha, allie, Poetic T, Liam, Amanda and 21 others
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