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Sep 2016
The ******* leaves,
Rustling outside,
The skip along the gravel
Making it scuffle
Like footsteps,
Your footsteps,
Teasing me.

Each time the noise
Falls upon my ear
My heart instantaneously
Beats, pounds
In my throat,
Suppressing the
growing lump which I've been
Trying to swallow for hours.

I don't know when you'll be back,
Or if you'll be back at all,
Your body will
But your heart seems to be elsewhere.
I can't deal with fights but I suppose who can? Some of us make it look so easy though...
Things I'll Never Say
418
   Mary Winslow and Ellie Sora
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