collage
I walk past the places we used to go,
but they don’t feel like home anymore.
Your name still lingers in the air,
but it’s like a ghost that doesn’t care.
I want to forget,
but I’m holding onto the idea of you,
like an old photograph
that’s fading, but I can’t let it go.
And maybe that’s what love is—
a collection of things
you can’t ever really leave behind.
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