november seeps into my bone
cold and weary,
i keep fumbling at the edges
of all the things that matters.
last week, i emptied all my chests,
drawers looking for any sign of you.
my walls had eyes only to see you
now i find myself lost at the door of my own house.
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sometimes i think i understand but then i don't
even the curtain sighs thinking of your scent.
i find my place like a murky web
forever tied, tingling with
hopelessness of you.
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