Without you
without you, i am nothing but a bag of fleash
stretched over brittle bones,
rotting in a house that isnt quite home.
without you i am a pointless whisper,
faint words flowing into an ear that isnt
listening.
without you i am nothing, a wilting flower
in the winter, left alone in a flower bed full of frosted
peddles. riddled with a past of neglect i will try to
thrive, but the loneliness in the soil spoils any
attempt of living.
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