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And because of you

I closed the door,
I took a drag on the invisible cigarette.
I waited.
I conveyed in the essence of your lack of presence
the guilt, I felt, at a twenty minute drive
and I ached and I held it together and I drank more alcohol
to let go of the burn that for the first time since I have been me
again, could not aid. I did not wish to run.
I wanted to fix you, with my purest of hands
and I would never run,
through your darkest hour,
I would never run.
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published
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