He can’t tell me why so I can’t tell you either

March 16, 2014 · by · in alcohol, anger, bitter, hate, life, love, poetry, searching, travel, written word · Leave a comment

It was a gentle forfeit. Like the painful silence every time I walked past our favourite bakery, or listened to the band you swore you loved like no other. It’s in every single considered step I take walking away from you.

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