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Jun 2016
The mama's in the street used to tell their sons about me
that girl is a ghost, boy,
don't get too close

and they would scoff and laugh
and creep ever nearer despite.
He. Him. The only one that mattered
eyes both green and blue and hands soft and lovely
i urged him to stay away
from me and my hollow self
my wandering sprit
my shrieking soul
He. Him. My only one.
he was Tantalus to me
always reaching, me, always receding
determination? desperation?
one made him come closer than ever
and I, I could not save him fast enough
He. Him. My only one.
*he's gone
he's gone
he's gone
Georgia Marginson-Swart
Written by
Georgia Marginson-Swart  21/F/London
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