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May 2021
He loved the half of me as if I was a whole. The scattered parts of me created another meaning in his presence. Like the lines that joined the stars to create a constellation, he added a new perspective to my existence. Maybe this is why it was so hard to forget him, because forgetting him meant to forget that part of me. As he carried away  the best of me, I was left with bitter memories.
Losing him, I  lost all the lines. As the gust of wind blew on my face, I became just another star in the sky.
Not a poem
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love  F
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