The Product of Yet Another Late Night


I hate finding traces of you here… you come and go as a phantom. Your life, that was once very much a part of mine, has become something left to the imagination. Sometimes I wonder what you are up to. Other times I simply don’t want to think about you at all. You’re beautiful and you kill me inside. I don’t want to know… don’t want to care, yet I’d give anything if I had any hint it would bring you here… next to me, where you once belonged. Next to me, where you once called home. You’re a shadow now and you’re fading fast. I reach to grab you, but nothing’s there. Our love, our life is vanishing. Any proof that it was ever real is becoming harder to find. What once was solid became liquid and flowed right down the drain. All that’s left is vapor now, and all our dreams are dissipating. Was it real? What did we have? Was it only a moment to come and go? Where have you gone? All I know is you are not here and you are not the women that I used to know.

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