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There is a constant change occurring within.
It didn’t take a long time to realize that.
Everything I’m trying to do or say changes to thoughts about you.
Every fucking thing.
My subconscious consumes my mind in seconds.
The minutest second after I wake up.
It’s like that song stuck in your head.
Just that I don’t want the song to be playing out of tune.
It creates a gallery, exhibiting paintings and photographs of you.
All I can do then is dwell in thoughts about you but this time only by myself.
Cause I am slowly disappearing from those photographs.
I am somehow forgotten to be painted.

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