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There was a piece of me,
that slept with hope that night,
that the next morning he'd come back,
and make thing's alright.

Days passed by, we lost touch,
and i lost hope.
Soon the memories didn't hurt anymore,
his existence didn't matter anymore.

Now he was one of the many strangers,
i turned a blind eye to.
He was another being,
who's existence didn't make a difference to me.

The pain made me numb to a point,
i didn't cry at all.
Every part of my body ached but my eyes didn't cry,
i just didn't cry.

Him ending things with me,
was the beginning of me becoming the better version of myself everyday.
I'm glad he did it,
because i wouldn't have given up on him,
i'd have walked to hell and back to make it work.

Meraki [poetry]Where stories live. Discover now