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did you make me from a piece of yourself?
the way god made eve from adam's rib?
i feel like one of your detached limbs,
rotting without your pulse in me.
is it wrong to say i wish i could die this way?
you threw away all of the letters i wrote you
it would be better to burn because now they still exist
the way we don't, so a story lives on
a story of lies built upon lies.
i thought you were my savior Hey-zues Kree-stow
i believed in your bread and wine
tears streaming from green eyes
my love for you as multiplied as freckles and stars
for the best for both of us
we dissolved like sugar in coffee
only it didn't make anything sweeter.
now i am only the dust left on your nightstand
and you are in me and in my words
you will live on forever and I
will die during spring cleaning