The blood running in rivers
can't be seen by the eye.
My wounds won't stop
their weeping.
I will the scars to form.
To swallow the suffering.
The pain worsens with each
ridiculous thought.
He will never appear.
No matter how many days
I sit pining for him
The truth remains the same.
I am nothing.
A wisp of emptiness.
Blowing in the breezes
of this fruitless life.
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