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Peapaw

You feel like a distant memory, laughing man in my photo.
Your bear hug barely a brush on my shoulder. I fear I’m forgetting, much like you.
Your raspy advice, growing fainter on the tapes of my mind,
sounding more like ghostly noises, captured in an empty room.
The chatter I hear, over the faint sound of these memories,
the broken language of my shattered mind,
which bottomed out when it realized you were gone.
Memories slipping faster through the cracks, for these I only cry for,
your strength, your sarcasm, your stories, your stubbornness.
Feeling my only connection to this fable of life before me,
the blood in my veins and this ribbon on my finger.

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