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Jul 2014
I used to think of you leaving me with desperate gasps of air and tear soaked cheeks
I swore I wouldn't make it through the lonely days and night
I swore that I would die of an aching heart.
Yet here I sit, still breathing, still surviving. All that is left is a scar of your memorie and the clothes and gifts in my closet.
Written by
Null  Far away, USA
(Far away, USA)   
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