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I’ve become a stomach churning memory of predictable failure
My promises hang on the edge of disposable and memorable at best

My love is for the masochistic
You couldn’t pretend your heart was beating just for me

Over the years I’ve forgotten your face
What’s left in its place is simply a barely recognizable name
Nothing more than letters scratched into my mind

Whether its fading
Or sinking deeper
Remains a mystery
Such a wonderful riddle
To be solved

Every night you haunt me in my sleep
Never settling before my eyes open
Even present in the daylight hours
My words are useless in describing

Created: Apr 16, 2014

Tags: poetry

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