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Everything that has
Ever been so perfectly exciting in my life,
And all its sure enough flaws.

All the beauty of everything
Tangible and abstract,
And the ugly black core they posess.

Every love and hate
Song that plays is bittersweet
In the burning impression

Of the deepest recesses of
My memories,
Where, of course,

Her eyes observe me,
What I was, and will become.
Her eyes, buried deep in me,

They whisper softly,
Harsh words of rememberance,
"What if", or "Why didn't you..."

But, perhaps I desrve it,
I let her go,
I let that final glance occur,

I let her eyes stay with
Me, for they said everything
Neither her nor I could ever

Dare to say.
Only 2 other people on the face of this planet know who the "her" is in this poem.

I'd rather not talk of it, but I thought I needed to get this poem out.
Jaz98 Featured By Owner Feb 8, 2013  Professional Digital Artist
I am intrigued.
idoartguy Featured By Owner Feb 8, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
I hoped someone would be
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Submitted on
February 8, 2013
File Size
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