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someone once told me,
             that you were a piece of art.

             actually i think that someone
was myself...

what does it matter?
              you are special...

              you are worth my time,
my money, my love.

you could never be replaced,
              never.

              sometimes, i can't
get your face out of my head

for days, weeks...
             but why would i want it off

             my mind?
this possession i have over you,

it will never go away.

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Possession | j.hs | COMPLETED Where stories live. Discover now