“You’re not with me anymore,”
I remind myself every night,
and the day after.
I say I’m fine,
and I actually am.
I’m fine with this missing piece of me,
I’m used to feeling so desolated.
What keeps me up late at nights,
and distracts me in the light of the day,
are the memories tatooed on my mind,
that I want to wipe off and yet,
I want to remember everything.
These memories are my solace
and my torment.
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