She'll never see you growing old.
She's getting colder
and the only thoughts she holds
are thoughts of you.
forgetting about me.
She says that I was wrong.
Why didn't you hold on?
Her thoughts are of you.
Wash cloth dripped dry as moths fly into the closet.
Stains still remain with remembrance of your name
and the times' she has forgotten.
And it's sadder now.
She still wonders why I survived you.
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