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May 2016
The silence is getting heavier,
I struggle to breathe under its weight.
My skin holds on tightly to the marks you left when you loved me.
Because these marks are all I'll ever have of you.

My thoughts are filled with 'Eskimo kisses', entwined fingers, the peace of your presence.
But your heart is cold in your bed made of empty promises and false hope...
Amanda Francis
Written by
Amanda Francis
864
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