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Dear Jake

I want to cry,
I feel like tears would allow me such freedom
Maybe they would wash away your touch,
Your kisses,
Your hands,
Maybe they would smear the letters that you wrote me,
Ruin the mixtapes
Maybe my mascara would stain your old t-shirt
Maybe they would dilute the memory of night time bike rides,
Summers up north,
Or your scent,
Maybe, just maybe, they'd wipe away the memory of you,
And I could be free again

Sincerely,
I'm not sad





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