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Jan 2019
she was gone

before i could even tell her,
that her voice was loud enough,
and the way she colored me
never matched anyone’s.

the missed years
and wasted sunsets
now sit across the table,
mocking me into submission.

there was a lot i could’ve done for her.
it now rests upon my shoulder,
they form like alien letters
and weigh like blood.

the legends are real,
listen - i know now.
there is nothing heavier
than bearing who you were everyday.
this is the year to be free. please please, if you’re still hurting - i hurt with you, and so know that i guess it’s okay to get better. we will get better. happy new year, poets. may our love never die.
thebutterfly-writes
Written by
thebutterfly-writes  20/F/Philippines
(20/F/Philippines)   
716
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