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Apr 15
It’s so messed up that every lover
I ever entertained,
After the hurricane of you,
Had to carry an unfair ungodly tax—
The burden of your pain.
Crashing soul-markets,
Until I fully exorcised
The sole idea of your existence.
Thank God you fully exited my body—
For It wasn’t sustainable
In any lover’s economy.
I was going bankrupt babe
Dianali
Written by
Dianali  29/F
(29/F)   
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