6/17/17

in an incidence of gross misfortune
i have not found someone else.
i have not met another who touches me like you did.
do.
i can’t bear to bear witness to your new life
our love was supposed to be special.
you were my first true love.
of course, i could never say these things to you.
i could never tell you that i would spend every second with you
i would burn down all those who hurt you
or at least, i would
right now.
it’s always easier to be romantic in abstraction.
reality is a smog that blackens our world
an exhalation of all the smoke that’s corroded your lungs
and kills me, too.

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