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Nine Lives

well spent

By Tennessee GarbagePublished 6 months ago Updated 6 months ago 1 min read
Nine Lives
Photo by emma valerio on Unsplash

The room is quiet—you are not;

Your dying eyes recall a thought.

Who will be there at night in my bed?

Who will lie on the pillow above my head?

Your breathing has slowed, but not my tears.

While the world turns, so grow my fears.

Who will help me through this next part?

Who will be there from the very start?

You were—and are—my greatest friend,

Together until the very end.

Somehow, still in silence, I can hear

The echo of you, close and near.

Friendshipheartbreaksad poetry

About the Creator

Tennessee Garbage

Howdy! There is relatable stuff here- dark and twisty and some sentimental garbage. "Don't forget to tip your waitresses" Hi, I am your waitress, let me serve you with more content. Hope you enjoy! :)

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