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Oct 2020
I breath in the timeless beauty of the pictures we took.
allowing my lungs to fill with the memory of your laugh, and the bittersweet taste of your lips.
I find myself sketching your features into my ceiling each night, allowing myself to see your ocean blue eyes again.  
in the deepened hours of the morning i lay away, my bed cold, your spot empty, unsafe.
come home.
i miss you.
Mikey
Written by
Mikey  18/Trans/my bed
(18/Trans/my bed)   
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