Day 48

17 February 2011

I want to tell you I don’t miss you, not one bit. That’s a lie, though. Hope used to float for me, now it seems futile, to hope for you to deliver what you promised. I feel sorry for you, and the misery of desolation which must clench your daily existence. Still, that does not seem like enough to fill that hole in my heart which takes your shape. Will that part of my heart ever grow back?



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