Over it
Done with it
You are no more
Than a passing glance.
You don't deserve it
Not at all
What more is there
To ask?
I don't want to see you.
I don't want to feel you.
Your breath, your touch
On my fragile skin
Nor do I want to hear
Your beating heart
Your grunts and gasps
As you make your way
To me.
Good-bye.
Farewell.
Again, a stranger.
That was how
It was supposed to be.
That was how
It should have been.
Distant.
Empty.
A passing glance.
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