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“I, postmortem
you. i think of you as often as my heart pumps blood to all of my faulty organs. i write without your name but your essence fusing all the letters into a deep and sable sense of passion. combing my hair with your invisible hands when you’re not with my body; the only blessing worth receiving, is even a fraction of your affection. i know how incomplete i am, i know very well. i hit the self-destruct switch years ago, to realize it’s slow release.
i see you in the proverbial dream, someone like a drug, or something like the heroine.
i will not change for you; i will be whatever you want.
i am dead without.
you.
but you have killed the old and soured version of myself.
someone like a vaccine.
something like you are,
the duchess of everything i am.”
you. i think of you as often as my heart pumps blood to all of my faulty organs. i write without your name but your essence fusing all the letters into a deep and sable sense of passion. combing my hair with your invisible hands when you’re not with my body; the only blessing worth receiving, is even a fraction of your affection. i know how incomplete i am, i know very well. i hit the self-destruct switch years ago, to realize it’s slow release.
i see you in the proverbial dream, someone like a drug, or something like the heroine.
i will not change for you; i will be whatever you want.
i am dead without.
you.
but you have killed the old and soured version of myself.
someone like a vaccine.
something like you are,
the duchess of everything i am.”
Posted 2 years ago
