To my second hand lovers

An audio narrative

Talking overlapped with typing with the sound of a “click” 

So yeah… sometimes I wonder about you

Or the version of you I knew, frozen from the last time we spoke

It’s not like i remember your middle name

Or was attached to the way you held me

It was the perfect value of not knowing you enough, 

so I built this thornful garden of lust for you.

Years later I found out that love lingers and stays

Even after you leave,

Even if we never speak 

Because sometimes I still feel like i’m in love with you

Like i have to remember i am not supposed to love you,

that it’s wrong to love you

In moments like this, where I am sitting in a pit of lust, the kind that melts onto your skin

That follows you in a passing thought on the dance floor, or a drifted scent.

I mean, I literally passed by someone with your cologne and collapsed. 

Sometimes our memories together flood me all at once and I have to be by myself

Or order your favorite meal on the menu when i’m out alone

You never would really say if you liked me but you kissed me every time you were hurt

We were completely indulged into one another, we were one.

Now you live amongst the silence of the second hand lovers i never texted back

Isn’t that fucked up? Second hand lovers.. 

Like we somehow needed to use each other to the narrow to find the people we actually love

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