Poetry

Zofia Wingmaker


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19 march 2014

Night

At nine last night,
I lay in bed,
waiting for my head,
to catch up with my body.
But as I lay there,
I thought of you,
and all the things,
we did.
Its different now,
me here,
you there,
2000 miles apart.
We haven't talked in weeks,
I no longer have your number.
I've checked in on you,
and they all say,
it doesn't matter,
he's moved on anyway.
But I don't believe them,
because I Love You,
and I know you love me too






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