December 2010
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Eventually, it all goes.
Whenever a memory of you comes into my consciousness, I don’t see you. I see a hazy mist where I know your form belongs.
I have no real memories of us anymore; just smoke and whispers and fragments like hands or your curls. The words are still there; that has not left me- yet. Pictures don’t do you justice. Pictures can’t convey the blood rushing to your cheeks, the way you...
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the distance to the moon is really far if you think about it. it doesn’t seem that far when you’re lonely and thinking about how distant two lives become though.
i had to stop looking at the moon 5 months ago. i remember why now.
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