I woke up every morning feeling the pain of solitary. I keep blaming myself for the rotten love. It’s all over my body – savoring the irksome memories alone. My futurity collapse as to obtain the hopefulness of solemnity. I hypnotized my vivid dreams to be realistic and achingly available to be reached. But I still immotile, I still lying on my bed every day because of never-ending sorrow and agony. Cognizant by the bereft of life long before I know and beaten up.

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