A past like a shattered glass.
Nothing but remnants of places, times, and faces too blank,
to disconnected, to ever remember or put a name to.
A pictures worth a thousand words, but who the fuck is even listening?
Struggling against the current of a self-indulgent fantasy.
Coming to terms that I'll never leave a legacy.
They'll forget me.
They'll forget you.
Like we never really did ever exist.
What a fucking waste.
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