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Dec 2015
It seems like the memory of you multiplies when I finally think it's gone.
I shared the things I love with you,
The things that are pieces of who I am.
I wish I hadn't let you into so many parts of my life,
Because I haven't stopped trying to get rid of you
And you've been creeping up from tiny cracks and crevices to spite me.
It doesn't matter what I do, what I use, what I say.
You keep blooming out of nowhere.
He's something like a ****, I guess.
Written by
Angelina  22/F
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