Red Balloons

He is made of red balloons

And a friendship that ended too soon

Didn’t get a chance to say goodbye

Why do all the good ones have to die

He is made of red balloons

And a friendship that ended too soon

redballoon

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Missing

My heart is preoccupied with missing. It doesn’t love, or celebrate, it simply misses. It’s beginning to collapse on itself because of the immense ache. It’s made itself useless by constantly wondering where they’ve all gone, and when they’ll be back. Most will never come back. They’ve parted. Some are so close I can almost touch them…almost…but the distance grows the more I reach out. The weight of missing someone is so burdensome and my heart has forgotten that it has other things to do…like beat for me.

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