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Aug 2014
I'll never see you,
And I think I know how the sun must feel about the moon

You live on in my head,
Like a tumor I cannot excise.
Or refuse to.
I can't tell anymore.

Funny how nobody ever truly leaves,
They become ghosts,
Animated by regret, goodwill, love, jealousy, pettiness
Muffled by distractions, dates, girlfriends, ***.

Please, just let me be.
Michael Humbert
Written by
Michael Humbert
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