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A Jan 2018
I remember your warmth against me.
I remember your curious eyes meeting mine, studying them.
I remember thinking being with you is like getting inside a black hole.. unknown thrilonce you get in, there’s no going back.

and now I’m holding your hands that were once warm, they’re getting colder with every breathe i took.
your curious eyes are dead still, unmoving and no longer studying mine.
I wrote this after hearing about one of my favorite people in the world who committed suicide recently. Its my first poem ever.

— The End —