Poem #38

I am a hoarder I don’t know how to let go of anything
I also hoard memories. Some are real ones
and some I made up in order to give myself
reason to still think about you. It makes me feel
as if we are something, even though we were nothing
other but a simple product of circumstances enhanced
by my ability to read too much into everything and to
create a fairytale around a few meaningless moments.

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