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She left me white flowers on the balcony on the day she stopped trying to win my love; the first time I watched her tail-lights with a crumb of regret. Used to leave a loaf of bread on my doorstep whenever she could not find me, drunk, alone; furious in her offer of easy company. She left and in her absence I found little solace in the poetry I kept from her. All these pointless words; another lover lost to meaning, another lover lost to impossible dreams of perfection. All this time afforded to me to form my words of purpose and total inaction.
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Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 3:26 PM UTC
Megalomaniac
She left me white flowers on the balcony on the day she stopped trying to win my love; the first time I watched her tail-lights with a crumb of regret. Used to leave a loaf of bread on my doorstep whenever she could not find me, drunk, alone; furious in her offer of easy company. She left and in her absence I found little solace in the poetry I kept from her. All these pointless words; another lover lost to meaning, another lover lost to impossible dreams of perfection. All this time afforded to me to form my words of purpose and total inaction.
Edward-Coles
Written by
26/M/English
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 3:26 PM UTC
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