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Apr 2014
I can still taste you.
I can still smell you.
Night falls, and I can feel you.
My throat closes and
I start to sweat.
I am in that house again.
The only light comes from
Ellen on the TV.
I pack you up, and
Breath you in.
She says slow down.
I say why.
She says I don't need you
Dying on my couch.
Remembering June
Written by
Remembering June
745
   Pushing Daisies
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