Finally, strangely
A sense of peace
a bit of betrayal
He is gone.
...Gone.
No more fights
No more crying
No more sleeping on couches or drinking alone
"I love you.
I'll always love you.
I'm sorry this is real
I wish it was a dream.
I keep waiting to wake up
And I don't because it's real or maybe I'm dead
Or in a coma and this is hell.
But I feel something.
I have to go.
Something's out there,
I can feel it. Listen, I--
I can't sprinkle your ashes over the ocean
Like you wanted.
Maybe...once I find out what's happened
I'll...
I'm sorry.
Goodbye."
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P R E S E R V A T I O N
Poésie{#520 in Poetry} The world has turned to ash. Hot winds and violent storms are in its place. Whatever remains of humanity has descended into chaos. The earth is taking back what is hers in a fit of catastrophic rage. This story follows a few people...