You’ve gone back home
And I’m only left with your flannel.
Your scent has almost worn off
And the tears start to roll out
From the bottom lids of my eyes.
If I were to have known
That I would become so attached
I would have stayed to myself.
Then there would be no reason to cry;
No one to miss endlessly;
And no one to look forward to talking to
There would be no reason to spend my
Well earned money on gifts
That might one day be useless.
There would be no reason to cuddle
With a wrinkled piece of fabric
That I had stolen before he slipped out of state…
Again.
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