four

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is it too early to say i miss you?

is it too late to say i love you?

he doesn't want to move.

he doesn't want to do anything.

so he lies on the bed,

on the bed they used to share.

the fabric wrenches beneath his harsh grip,

his eyes shut tight,

his shallow breathing heard in the quiet room.

he can hear his heart pounding in his chest,

yet he can't feel it hurting.

he whispers into the empty room,

"please,"

"come back."

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