flight patterns
the magic wears
the feeling dies
nothing left
in his eyes
and many days to think
after days apart
nothing left
inside my heart
that would ever make me
want to start
anything with you ever again
i know not to play with dead things
not to waste time living in the past
that smell of gasoline
avalanche of layered screens
modulations
Modulating over and over again
With pointed fingers and fits of rage
You forced me to turn the page
Onto a new day
Onto a new chapter
into a new life
Without you
I have me.
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