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Jul 2015
The thought of you makes me sick
I can't function or focus
My heart aches
My legs are weak
Crowded by my thoughts
And all I want is to be left alone
While someone keeps me company

But you can't do that when you're 180 miles away

We fall apart
Say our goodbyes
Through a fuzzy telephone line
I'm left broken but hopeful
Terrified of every option
Sean Harbor
Written by
Sean Harbor
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