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I'm alone, betting on this three legged horse, that something will distract me from this thing pressed against my head. The phone will ring, the door will sound, the electricity will go out, the sky will fall- something will happen. Or I'll just chicken out, because it'll hit me that you're never coming back.

Come on down to Earth, see where you land, and you end up finding me of all people. Lucky you; lucky me.

This is what I get for falling in love with an angel. Eventually, angels must go home- sooner than us mere mortals.

You had your mushy-headed marshmallow reasons, I'm sure. I can't begin to understand them, ask what they were, but you had them. You left without saying goodbye, a kiss the day before and nothing more.

I died the second I met you and you inspired me to live, to love, to carry on in my aloneness. The wings made love impossible, I'd reach for you and you'd flutter away like a sparrow, carried through the air in a span of feathers and bone.

My place, never yours. Drinks of innocent spirits and ways, making our bellies light and our heads heavily lean into one another. Grape juice of God's vice hung from your lips like the sweetest butter.

So here I sit, memories of marmelade in the morning and unspoken prayers of eternity. My guitar in the corner watched us live separate lives, your nature to administer to me.

Days will come and nights will go, but those precious minutes, feeling you at my side, will linger forever. The scent of your ethereal skin, the sound of your lyrical laghter.

You forced me to live and now you're gone. I've got this gun to my head, and I'm tired of holding on.

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