the pain is almost too much to bear.
his words
my pulse
synchronicity.
terrified of hope
we both run, escape into the sun
pretending, while life goes on
when in the dark
the truth comes by candlelight...
something's amiss
without the other...
and then the little black pieces of my heart keep beating.
the little grey ghosts of his soul start weeping
and the pain
is almost too much to bear.
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