Lock me in a darkened room with the sun outside to taunt me. I turn my ears away and listen to the phantom birds. The slow fall of dusk. Impatient sighs. Wisps of dirges floating up from tired streets. Without you I create my own music and I create my own mood, though I reluctantly now accept that my hungry arms were never meant for you. People talk about accepting change and letting go of love gracefully. But reputation does not comfort me, not of losing you. I thought I saw you today and how my heart leapt, and then how it dived. It wasn’t you. It always is…but is never you. So I say this hard. And I say it fast, for any day now my last breaths will not surprise me. Katya. Katya. Let these be my final words. I love you. I love you. But, for all that you’ve put me through, your name besmirches my tongue.
Sir Morose 1 Minute
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