I Leave It Here #7

It was given. Was it lost? I leave it here now, a tear in my eye. It hurts — a tightness in my chest. I don’t want this, why did it go? There’s nothing left. But I won’t walk away. I refuse. I refuse. A faded table, a quiet letter, and the pain of absence. This image holds a stillness heavy with emotion — the space between letting go and not being able to.

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