Did you ever really leave
if i still talk to you in my sleep,
and all those tender memories of you
spill into the time i spend awake ;
how could you have left,
if i still hear traces of your voice
in crowded trains and hallways,
and all i can think about when
he tries to hold me is
the way your skin felt on mine,
when people talk about love
i tremble right down to my bones,
that word has me gasping for air,
struggling to crawl out of a mind that is
consumed with the way you gave up on us ;
is this how it feels, having to
pay for sins i never knew
i was committing,
breathing out of our memories
for the rest of my life?
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