Grief.
I'm tired of it.
I can't seem to move on. Death surrounds me.
Every time I turn around there's a ghost. So many ghosts. Everywhere I turn.
They got out of it easy and left me here picking up the pieces of the lives they shattered.
And I pick up the pieces, and I pick them up, but the pain never goes away and the pieces reappear. And the ghosts hover.
Shattered lives. Fragmented feelings. Broken hearts.
And then they went and died.
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