Two
Somehow just not as permanent. Not as lasting. Not as terrifying now. I've accepted the fact. You've slipped away. Farther and farther. I still search for you in crowds, sure. But sometimes, you aren't the only one.
And soon, the word love starts to raise bile in my throat. And I realize, this might just be a longer summer. You've never been that permanent.
June 18, 2014 5:56pm
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Prose
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