the thirst to my hunger
the drive to my motivation
and the warmth of my affection
are all hollow histories now.
when energy’s neglected
when value stays unseen
how do you cope with loss?
with faded existence in eyes?
with decay?
how do you relearn to love yourself
in order to love him again
in order to make the same mistake twice
but realize all things with clarity
after the second?
left with bones and
fleshy voices that
lose their marrow
and float on with
empty memories.
rotting.
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