i always had love to blame

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i lost hope in asking you to stay,
but i kept your room the way you left it,

i boarded up the windows
and watched it become a guest room.

the lips i had once longed to kiss left me dry

and your face was only a ghost
born from the tears staining my eyes,

the verses i wrote no more than an exchange of goodbyes.

now i have love to blame when i lay alone in my bed;
for so long i've fought to maintain everything i've wrecked,

easily sheltering the stability of a broken heart
mascara stains lessening into permanent scars

but am i more than these hollow bones?
darling i would give everything
for the love that may have never been real,

the one that we shared, the one that consumed

innocence
and truth with the strength your father had when he slammed the door
for the last time.

there's so much i wanted

to do for all the better things
you could have been.

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