You too?

One more gone, one less thing to live for. Two left, must get rid of them.

The death of a memory is much easier than the death of a person, so I must desert them all.

Let me be a thing of the past, I'm sick of the present and scared of the future.

I can't have her, but now you're gone too?

Sent here to do your dirty work? A pretty shitty thing to do.

Three months will blow away with the change of the seasons, and I will be left behind in the daze of summer.

The End

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