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Thirteen years
Separated by a day
Tear apart Autumn.
Leaves die,
Their true colors surfacing
Until they fall.
It all happened too fast
As slow as it went
Eight years the aftermath.
Two held out
Eyelids close for the last time
Left much unanswered with regrets
Stick it out, alone
As ideation throws itself
Against membrane walls.
Silence instead of screams
Close lips, open eyes
The yelling of the past is past.
There is a disconnect
Rejections, Turned backs
As the darkness of the night
Seeps into the coming day
Hiding is opportune
When one day is like the next.
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