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Everything I love is anemic. I am too tired to stay. I need find some blue skies to take my blues away. Faded Levis, time has not kept the color in me at bay. The more it goes, the more it’s gone, the more worn I wear. I let my love for who we were oversleep inside me. Remembering how you told me things you never told another soul, how happy you once made me, how I have kept sacred, everything you entrusted in me and always will. My heart is still the same as the days you called me your best friend. You might not have felt it necessary to take me with you, but you were never left behind. Squeezing in and out of these new relationships, I want to find a fit that feels like you. I feel like nothing fits anymore.
It was never worded, but it was painfully read. The things you never felt I deserved to hear said. The truth is, you owed me truth. I’m not sure I wanted to know it. I became this moon and you this flower that closes at night. I still shine down on you, hoping you might bud for a moment and acknowledge the fact that I have always been there to help nourish and grow you. I don’t even want applause. I just want a glance that acknowledges you left me behind. When your new galaxy formed, I was the planet that got left in the cold realms of outer space. A very black, cold place. Far enough away to watch you twinkle, supporting all this new life, as I choked lacking oxygen or atmosphere. I blamed myself for a long time. Did I have too many ghosts? A marionette pulled by the strings of loss, illness, poverty, who once still had a melody that could draw a crowd to a dance floor.
Maybe it became too sad to make people dance anymore. I just need you to know, if you would’ve just whispered some words of encouragement in my ears, I would never have let the beat go. Being a song on a dance floor with no one around, is about the loneliest feeling you can have. I was once a song that you requested, loved. I need to make noise. I need to make sound. My heart has been having this serious care of selective listening. I’m wondering if yours is too cause you’ve ignored all my attempts to call you back into my world. I’ve ignored all my inner-voices that tell me you have no interest in me. All I didn’t think I could hear is
I don’t want you around anymore, yet they say we speak most often non-verbally and in that context that’s all you’ve been saying. I get it, you don’t smoke and I am a long drag right now, but I lit up for you for years. Now my body is full of cancer and I’m so fucking tired and scared and you can’t even take one drag and exhale with me. I’m afraid and cold and you can’t lend me one piece of your perfect sky. I have no energy to hide the low visibility of hope inside of me. I can’t see who you are. I can’t explain why I still want to give you all the love and support you deny me. I work tirelessly to find someone to just hold me for a minute and say, I ct’s going to be ok. You’ve read my books. You’re in them all. Notice, in every one, the happy ending I fight so hard for….

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