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Bloom and wither: tales of selective memory
The worst pain in my chest, my eyes couldn’t be more red. My hopes and dreams with you through that wide window went. I knew an ending thatI never saw coming. Somehow surprised by how carefully I wanted to protect you and how you carelessly broke me. “Come visit me,” read your text to a disguised name on your phone. How did you know in spring that by autumn we’d be done? A forgotten feeling that is… gosh, it’s been so long, but can’t forget how it hurt long after you were gone. The way you used me, then brought flowers to my tomb. And while my own tears dried,…

