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Jan 2015
You're the songs I once loved so fervently but can no longer bear to hear or sing because they weigh so much now with remainders of you and I.

You're the paths I can no longer tread alone because the stones on the pathway are stained by mindless conversations of two 19 year olds. Each stone a different story. They still breathe in new life as dawn unravels over them. Coming back to life over and over and over and over. Never ceasing to exist. Never ceasing to haunt.

You're the books I mean to read but can no longer do so because 7 year old you mindlessly scribbled your name all over them making it impossible for me to hold them 14 years later without my burning my fingers. I can feel all the letters of your name piercing into my skin, carefully bruising all the right places.

You're so good at this game.
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