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The preciousness of preciousness.

 I never had the chance to tell you,
well, I had so many chances to tell you
but you're not one for deep sentiments,
you just like deep holes and deep intellects but;
I knew this would come, in between the morning
crows of here and the nights clouds of your roof
I saw the wandering gaze of someone who wasn't lost,
but realised they wanted to be and there I was, ready to be the cement
that gave you footing and a foundation, when I should have just given
you more fuel to burn away any attachments to this place.
So I guess, if any regrets I have, if I am to feel it;
that I didn't give up something precious
to preserve the preciousness
of you any sooner.




She wrote it in cursive
with a 2b pencil
on a crisp white sheet
stained with eraser marks
torn out from a moleskin notepad
and i found it
in my suitcase
two months later
after her funeral.
Written by Mitochondrial (Will lou White)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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