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by
Eliot
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Lore
Poems
Aug 24
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I grew to loathe his whiskey kiss
and tasting his thoughtless omniscience.
He always asked, “Why so tense?”
Useless moans drowned out the silence.
I could admit that I have regrets,
but instead,
I’ll just laugh to myself
because he’d only forget.
Written by
Lore
32/F
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Rob Rutledge
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