Intimacy
of the soul.
Cannot exist,
without the soul that kept me wandering.
Wandering on the edge of sanity, just for the hell of it.
So it lie in pieces on the bed.
where the shadow of your warm embrace
mocks my cold skin.
Can I lose my mind now?
now that you're gone,
and she has stayed.
I find myself talking to my linens,
in an unhealthy,
delusional slur.
I keep asking them to take me back.
They are similar to you in one sense.
They say nothing.
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