Broken Tales.

Because you were never right for me and we were never meant to be, as one, as a two or as me with you.

But if someone could take this hurt
This pain
This pitiful heavy emotionalless gain

If someone could wipe those memories of you from my mind, erase the laughter paired,
soak up the tears shared,
just be kind and erase you from my fragile mind.
Just erase you.

Life would be easy to breathe in again. Mornings would not quickly rush to become nights, where minutes hadn’t been wished into hours, where songs hadn’t been dimmed into silence.

Where life would feel sure.
Breathing would become softer, calmer, lighter and easier.
Sleep would perhaps be a comfort once more.

But if I erase you, I erase me and everything we stood to be.
If I erase you, I forget younger me and everything I have learnt since there even was a we.

Oh the life that could have been. The places we could have seen and the people we may have become.

But here is no us without trust.

There is no you and I, just the past held in a now dulling chorus of whys.

For you were the best and worst and the everything of me. The one that was there for past’s now.
If only we could pause the moments, the lazy mornings of nothingness that meant everythingness.

We were friendfull. We were our own little mighty and magical and serendipitous, turbulent duo of two, just me and you.

But we have to move in different ways now.
So with endless pain and endless yearns of broken potential, I have to achingly march myself away and blindly turn the opposite way.
until the path becomes a once worn mark on a older, unused map.

I have to fight the last gasp of wishing there was more to do, to make us a two.

Just me.
And now there’s just

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