After a while that burns inside you discover a death that has dug a hole.
Permanente.
Somewhere inside you, as you try to behave normally, there will always be that hole.
is now fresh earth.
It burns. A lot.
I can not write to live
to chain thoughts, a respite, a moment
only to start again to give my breath and wipe his forehead
.
at least a little
I miss you, damn if I miss.
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