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A/N THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO CONNOR FRANTA FOR ACCEPTING HIMSELF AFTER 22 YEARS. IM SO VERY PROUD OF YOU. XX
❤️Phoenix

Troye's POV

Waking up sobbing
Third night in a row
So hard to breath
As my lungs burn
Memories crowd my mind
Will I ever forget
The hurt he brought me
As he beat me in bed

Memories are made
With people who matter
But sometimes it changes
Memories are shattered
But the pieces remain
So I try to escape

Toms on my feet
My heart skips a beat
As I realize the sweatshirt upon me
Is certainly not mine

It was his
I think as I light a match
It was his
I think till I'm just holding ash
It was his
I think as it blows away
Carried by the wind
To far far away

So I take the opposite route
And walk away
Just like the sleep
That won't be mine
On this very cold
September night

Silence : Troyler A.U.Where stories live. Discover now