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Jan 2019
I never noticed
if people cry like I do
orΒ Β 
if they expect a phone call,
when they are lone.

I'm waiting for a call
tonight,
any invitation to take away
my hopelessness.
I can't sleep anymore.

No one called me.

I'm thinking about throwing up
your words,
all night,
instead of waiting for others.

With a glass of wine
i Β΄ll celebrate my own company.

I was sick,
maybe
the cause was you.

- A.
Written by
Pretend Poetry
140
   H-B
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