sto morendo

I'm about to bleed poetry. I've had my apartment back to myself for two days since having company for three weeks; as my soul mate's family revealed health issues back in Italy, which means he's out the door. I don't think I'll ever stop crying at this point. But that's ok, eyedrops help, and at least I'm discrete. Dipping into restrooms, trying to avoid houseguests. Sto morendo. While break-ups aren't my favorite thing, I feel that this abrupt...
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