I buried her. She came back. I
cremated her. Yet she returned. Her phantom is more real than her. I can feel
her presence in her absence. My soul wears the fragrant robe of her memory.
Five years. Its been five years since she glanced at me. Its been five years
since she moved on. Five years since. Since I lowered my eyes in a silent
prayer and touched the sky painting a rainbow with my heart. Dark, willful
cloud of my intelligence tells me to forget her and breaks my heart into a
thousand suns, a thousand brilliant suns blinding my reason. O my little
princess, kill me, show some more apathy, have no mercy, disrobe me off my
sanity, bathe me in your child like laughter, and cradle me to a greater
madness. This madness is my power of love!
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