seventy-nine.

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𝒊 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒑𝒐𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈

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i swear that i was going to marry you
if i had the chance
but you were gone by the morning
and i was gone that afternoon
before we even hit a year
a merry christmas present
your goodbye ringing in my ear
it's so sickening to think about
the secrets that i shared with you
how you held my heart in your hands
even now there's a corner reserved for you
a table with the best view of sunset
over the ocean and the rolling tide
we sit down for dinner
but i remind myself that none of it is real
let the waves pull me under
before i ever could make it back to you
my heart spilled its contents
bright crimson on both our hands
for in a breakup there is no one
who comes out devoid of guilt
the deer ran into the road and yet
the driver did not stop
maybe that's the worst crime of all
being powerless to stop your fate
seeing your heartbreak plastered on a page
you can only hope it fades with time
wash your hands in the silence
in the gaps that you can't fill
you pray i leave your brain
i pray you leave mine

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