If you could see me now, in the wake of loss, death and lovelessness, it would be a blur to your eyes. Just as the buzz of your ears when you sit in a full coffee shop, everyone talking, blenders mixing, steamers screeching, grinder yelling, so loud you can’t hear your own thoughts. A blur of a person that once was, and is no more, for better or worse, it would be a shadow.

If you could see me now, in the wake of death, lovelessness and struggle, it would be a smudge in your eyes. Just as a blotch that sits and stays as the elephant on my shoulders, weighing my spirit and the upturn of my lips down, pushing down that sparkle that you had seen, crushing into dust, poof. A smudge of a person that once was, and is no more, for better or worse, it would be a haze.

If you could see me now, in the wake of lovelessness, struggle and growth, it would be a shape in your thought. Just as the memory or childhood fades and vanishes, except for really good, or the dreadfully bad, distortion of facts, simply by the work of time. A smear of a person that once was, and is no more, for better or worse, it would be a vague impression.

Of which the cause was you.

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