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I was the coffee and you were wine,
I wanted to stain your favorite white
shirt and wreck it, 
the way you got me too drunk
to count constellations in my sleep.
I want your silhouette to stop
burning through the back of my eyelids,
for these echoes taking over my head
to stop sounding like voices screaming at me
every 3am.
Lately, sunsets have been looking at me with sad eyes;
they seem to tell me
I’ve seen enough of them in a lifetime.
Maybe someday, I will stop you from passing through my lips like a ghost,
how often your name seems to find its way
in between these short, hollow breaths.
I don’t need you anymore, 
at least
not in the way the horizon breaks
and makes way for the sun
to give meaning to another day.
Back then, I thought
they should have songs written about you
but now, not really.
You deserve broken proses,
and bitter coffee.

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Thank you for sending love ♥ :)