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Hot Mess.
We shall stay together forever in unholy matrimony.
How could you do this?
What about all the times you said you loved me?
How could I do this?
How could we do this?
More importantly, how did we do this?
Unofficial declarations of love.
“I love you” has no reason to exist anymore.
Ergo, it doesn’t.
An attempt at camaraderie?
More like rape of the mind.
Lack of emotion,
Lack of rhythm,
Lack of rhyme,
Lack of everything I've ever worked for.
Lack of everything I've ever given up to you,
For you,
Along with you.
Anarchy of our former psyche.
Can you feel me falling?
Rushing past you down the drain of what's left.
I'm falling down to nowhere,
And that's when I realize:
None of this matters.
You do not matter. I do not matter.
This attempt at poetry does not matter.
But can you still feel me falling?
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Omegle REPRESENT!