Can I scream? I have been doing that in the inside of my ruptured mind. You hurt me too. More severely that all of them. I cry but you know, the sobs won't be heard, the hurt won't show. Only songs and quotes and photographs would convey my silent weeping heart. I love you like no one else. I imagined a life with you, full of blue skies with colourful balloons, night skies like wallpapers in the bedroom, black and white sketches with splotches of paint, oreo cookies and milkshakes, laughs unlimited resonating on slippery misty-mountain tops.
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