Poem Hunter
From Pembe
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From Pembe

i do think of you sometimes.
there, accross so much water.
it's strange to think that you loved me
my pink face.
i didn't love you
the eyes you wanted me to read the answers from.
is this okay?
i'm sorry
your guitar pick sits sadly that you left me
i don't miss you.
i don't think of you
each time i see the blue eye when i walk into that house
taking all the bad thoughts away,
into itself until it shatters.

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