So, here we are
—you, squinting into
the sun. Can't be
fixed, but it is
hard that you would
wander off, so far.
I'd just come up
for air, and known.
Of course,
for air, and known.
Of course,
that was after
we talked.
The heart I used to
listen with
The heart I used to
listen with
is broken, still
out for repair.
Funny, how I believed
I wasn't there,
but somewhere borrowed,
while I tried to
remember you
remember you
would never leave.
(c) 2017, by Hannah
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