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to c, from c

i've always been that girl
who left after the chase,
but you were different;
you didn't let me leave.

instead you stuck around and
you compared me to a wave
because i always kissed the shore
to recede back into the tide
and sulk in my desolation,
a sadness i thought i deserved.
yet for you,
i couldn't help but inch
my way back into your embrace
when i realized that
you were worth more
than any prescription medication
in the sense that
i could feel nothing
but pure euphoria
in the comfort of your presence.

my best friend once told me
that it takes sevens shots of whiskey
for him to forget what haunts him
and he told me to do the same,
so i found you —
one shot with each passing month
until i found myself
drunkenly in love with you.

i've always taken pride
in not being the clingy one,
but it's hard to not miss you
before you even take a step
outside my door
when you bring me a happiness
i've never felt before
just by breathing next to me.
recently i laid on a bed
close to dying after an overdose,
fading in and out of consciousness,
staring at the hospital monitor:
a 190 beats per minute heart rate —
i scoffed because even the rush
that i felt as i was toying with death
was nothing compared to
how fast you made my heart race
just by holding my hand.

my life is a series
of tragic and beautiful books
and you are the beginning,
climax and conclusion
of every single story —
i need you to function.
i never thought
i'd be the one to say this,
but please stay for a while;
you are the last piece of thread
that i'm clinging onto
to preserve my sanity.

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