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healing heart process// delayed by 2 months

Every breath I take feels like a well used harpsichord blowing it's last, strained note.

My thoughts of you come in waves, bashing against the forefront of my consciousness and seeping back into the depths of my mind.

I smell your scent on other people, a psychosomatic call for your presence.

The list of symptoms grows as time frays the severed, battered, bloodstained ribbon I tied from my heart to yours.
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