The way I felt about you, I can’t really tell anyone. They wouldn’t get it.
Why I liked you so much that I spent countless hours talking about you or looking at your photo because it made me happy to think of how happy I was when I was with you. When we were swaddled in created memories,
Overflowing with laughter.
It was something special. I had it only with you.
Youthful and honest. Silly and old.
I could see it. Living in a house on the hill with horses. Our code for something more.
But how could that happen with our feelings coiled behind truth like
Dark globs eating away lashes
Giving the illusion that we were full? When in reality

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