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A Crack
A crack in the spitting image of you and me
lines dividing our once whole hearts,
demarcations from fights,
rifts that used to be veins.
These thoughts drifted across my mind
oh so fleeting because I never really thought it all made sense
other than the bits and pieces that I weakly strung together, with a mind that was made for a purpose far better than this.
I never really had a complete thought after this,
after you.
Never really put any true thought into anything really.
Just the
small
chemical
reactions
reacting
from within
to power a body slowly running out of time.
I'm starting to think the crack was in the spitting image of me.
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