thirty

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Dear Keefe,

I feel... weird. It's almost like there's a part of me that's gone.

Not gone like its gone because you aren't there.

That's a feeling I've gotten used to.

It's almost like somebody plucked something out of my brain and I keep trying to reach it and grasp it back.

But I can't. It's like it's gone, washed away in the waves.

But there is something I remember.

Your ice blue eyes.


It was probably only a dream.

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