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This poem should be about somebody.
It should describe
the feeling of
your hand in my palm
and your lips on my cheek,

it should tell someone
that they mean
something worth holding on to,
and so I wont let go

so long as they love me,
so long as 'happy'
is something
I can give to them.


But that isn't
what this poem is about.
it's just an empty shell
and 'happy'
isn't even something
i can give myself.

I'm so lonely
tell me,
where am I?

And why aren't you here
kinda bad :( rough draft, will be revised if i decide theres anything worth salvaging in this horrible mood

— The End —