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Why?

Not a clue.

Creating an alibi

Is up to you.

I was left feeling blue.

Not really knowing her

wasn't a concern

At the time.

It felt like she was here

And then she wasn't mine.

It felt like a soft betrayal

That would pain me till I cried

That perhaps would accompany me

Until the day I died.

"Drugs, prostitution, we aren't sure

As of yet."

Would it hurt you to tell me

What was going on in her head?

I would miss her

Most dearly,

But then I saw her

In my sleep.

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