Happy Friday! | Simptastic!

Closure means writing a long-form essay again. Here's a piece of the current draft.

The impression you leave is sharp, serrated. I run my fingers on what the blade of you left for me. I don't hate you, but sometimes, I feel ashamed of myself for ever believing you would hold me. Sometimes, I feel pity for you only being able to hold yourself and your shining ghosts. I don't think you…

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