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Apr 2015 · 347
Reasons.
Kwakhanya Max Apr 2015
You told me I was the reason you survived,
This is the reason why I chose not to arrive
I did not want to deprive...
Your soul of the thirst I felt three days ago when these words were uttered to my ears, wrapped,
In paper that tasted sweet but this,
This is the reason I carry a disease called you,
You, this disease is the reason why there's no more ease within me.
Remember the nights we used to look at the constellation of stars and we spoke about how we had no limitions,
Just like these formations in the sky.
Do you recall the emulsion of emotions we shared that night?
Your irresponsibility generated the possibility of us,
And us was the reason I thrived.
But that's all eradicated, faded,
Gone like an uncatchable flea.
I hope you see the damage you've caused within me.
I pray it's an observation you see clearly, because what you see.
What you see is the reason I can no longer be who I want to be.
Self written.

— The End —