I think I am dying

I think I am dying

everytime I see you update your Instagram with those black and white photos of
things that no longer
matter.

I think I am dying

everytime I hear you listen to Damien Rice,
put on replay of
The Greatest Bastard.

I think I am dying,

everytime I smell your cigarette smoke burn onto fabric with carelessness,
because you don’t care
what you wear.

I think I am dying every time I imagine not living with a world with you.

I am dying.

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