a stale hangover just leaves me cold.
and pondering your presence.
how it lingers within my warm bed.
sheets trapping your sweet scent.
pillows still fresh with your soft head's imprint.
but it all fades back to gray
when I realize this hangover is simply
playing tricks on my senses again.
so I resume fetal position and
continue to hide from your ghost.
how it does haunt me.
its weight. heavy. on my mind.
its gravity pulling against my heart strings.
it never gets easier.
this constant death.
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