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May 12
I can no longer endure the dreadful sound of jazz.

It pains my ears, this rusted, broken pipe
leaks acid straight onto my heart.

In our quicksand of memories I silently sink
and my room seems so dark, so cold and empty
that all the demons from the corners left me,
and you alongside,
with the creatures of the night.

“no, no they can’t take that away from me”

****, i wish they could.
the way we slow danced,
held hands,
loved each other’s glance,
laughed ‘till three
and all those
memories.
Tanya
Written by
Tanya  F/Eastern Europe
(F/Eastern Europe)   
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