A group of people I hardy knew.
All filled with very stimulating and frustrating conversation.
Topic:
a desire to be appreciated,
to be loved,
and needed,
by a friend.
I wrote a letter in my mind after dinner.
Dear old friend:
I am glad you are out of my life,
we have moved past on to more simple
more surface life.
I moved on to something that feels so fake
a manikin has so much personality.
I still love you, but I no longer miss you.
I would rather feel dead inside.
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