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Such a simple gesture as pressing the shirt against the nose
A familiar scent hits me
A wave of emotions wells over me
It wells over so strong I can barely stand up
Need to grip the chair to not fall
Still with a firm grip of the shirt

I see your face in front of me
The way you smile
I remember how I wrapped my arms around you
With a firm grip of your cardigan
That smells exactly the same
”I don’t need it, you can have it, it’s yours”
And that cardigan became my comforter
My savior through the nights
When your absence was far too great

I see your face in front of me
The way you cry
When this was the end of our history

But
it wasn't the end
Because I carry the sequel in my heart
Otherwise it wouldn’t hurt so goddamn much
I wrote this piece couple of days ago. First time uploading a text. I write from time to time, but I usually doesn't share it with the public. It's nice to write, though.
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Submitted on
August 14, 2016
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