One Hundred and Forty-Seven Days
i feel haunted.
not by ghosts but by you.
everywhere i turn you are there.
sour candies and baby’s breath.
pink roses and backwards caps.
i am haunted by what you were to me,
how it will never be like that again especially.
oh to have that erased.
would it be a waste to have not felt it?
do i regret you?
us?
147 days.
one hundred and forty-seven days.
goodbye.
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