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Inconsequential

And so it's done

That dream I saved 

I cherished and nurtured

Fed the best parts of me

Now dried up and decaying 

Crumbling like flaky pastries

 

The color all gone 

Now grey and dusty

Like cobwebs in corners

Of long forgotten rooms

Like dirt on windows

No one has looked through 

 

The feeling I had

All diminished and dead

No longer a heartbeat 

Only silence in my head

Like the still late at night

When alone in your bed

 

Now your nothing more 

Than a whisper I heard

A daydream I had

 

I can't recall 

The smell of your shirt 

the sound of your voice

Or the warmth of your hand

 

 I can barely recall

The times that we had

 

Warm spring afternoons 

Hardly remind of you 

And in the cool evenings

I never long for you

 

The warmth of your arms 

The glint in your eye

The sound of your laughter 

Never cross my mind 

 

 

◄ Thoughts of the wife of a pedophile

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