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she left;
a scar,
a piece of
her broken
heart,
memories,
me.

she's back;
with a smile,
with someone,
with new
memories,
but without
me.

yet;
the scar never
left,
the piece of her
heart wasn't
given back,
old memories
seems strange
and foreign,

and
i
still
am
falling
to her
endless
pit.

—love, old lover,
stranger.

echoes | poetry | wattys2018Where stories live. Discover now