I’m wearing your socks,
Your trousers lie on the armchair,
Pieces of your life are all around me,
You’ve been woven into the tapestry of my existence.
Yet, you’re not here, like an imaginary friend, I feel like I could touch you.
The remnants of the night linger, a bad taste in my mouth, a familiar and unpleasant feeling.
Was I right or was I wrong, it doesn’t matter any more, you said your part, you can’t be wrong and I’m easily dealt guilt.
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