Wednesday, April 3


I miss her because
no one else makes me adore
so painfully


I wish I were old:
Death lying in bed, and that
cunt Youth nevermore


I hate missing her
it's useless and soon the night
will end with morning


There's blood on my hands
I do not wish to disturb
on to my keyboard


I miss her only
because nothing else in the
world smells like her hair

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