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Aug 13
and so, it was only natural
it was only fitting
for him to come for me on a Tuesday night
in the middle of a sentence that,
though unremarkable,
was not yet done
and so, I was remembered as a fragment
all the little pieces of me
inside the people who’d once loved me, who’d called me friend,
who’d sang me lullabies
little pieces tinted blue
then, inevitably, undeservedly rose
no martyr
no miracle
perhaps death thought me a ******,
begging for him
he only took me when my back was turned
Written by
triggerword  21/F
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