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zak  Aug 2017
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zak Aug 2017
I dream about you still
even in my waking hours you come, unsolicited, like bugs in the walls of an unkempt house
and I would let you in,
and warm you up by the firelight
but you insist on staying away
and I am left with soft echoes of you
haunting the recesses of my brain
I wish you would come back
completely, or leave forever
because I cannot live with halfdead memories
Only to wake up and feel empty again

— The End —