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Writer's pictureTina Tran

Bare

Can you love me on days I can’t love myself? Can you feel me washing away with the waves of the essence? There are days I look at you and I see nothingness. I know you are no longer you and there’s a piece of you I’m trying to find, in me. I’ve seen you on days where you drown yourself in bottles of whiskey in sorrows and tears that no one else sees; yet I still love you. Yes. I do. As the promises I made you. I don’t know how long it has been since the last time I saw “you” the real you. Under the painted smiles and laughs you show the world. It must be hard to crawl out of bed isn’t it? Do they know how many sleepless nights you’ve been up contemplating life? They see the real you and they’re scared or tired of you. They don’t live in your eyes. They must not even know what’s playing in your head do they? How many times do you cry a day wondering how good you’d be better of, dead? How many times do I have to remind you, you belong here too with me? It hurts me that I can't do anything for you now. You’re lifeless. How many ticks and counting have you done watching your life go by? You’ve done everything, have you not? I hate to keep reminding you that you have to fight and I worry about you sometimes. I keep yelling out your name but it’s like you can’t even hear me. Part of you died in my arms and I refuse to let you go. There, you’re in a new state. I’ll hold on to your memories forever. I know there’s a piece of you left. Just some part of you still makes me, me. Pieces you left incomplete for me to finish.

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