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Aug 2016
I walk through the house and I hear voices and laughter. I turn down the covers and your pillow is wrinkled. I look in the mirror and I see a glimpse of you. I cry into my hands and wonder how I could have been such a fool. I hear footsteps coming up behind me. I catch your scent on a gentle breeze. I spend long nights missing your embrace, I wonder why I didn't see. Now my bedroom is haunted with your memory. Your ghost haunts me and reminds me of my mistakes. The memory will forever haunt, it is perhaps more than I can take.
James M Vines
Written by
James M Vines  50/M/Atlanta Georgia
(50/M/Atlanta Georgia)   
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