Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Untitled


I don’t know. I have done this a hundred times. I have said the same things, gone on the same dates, picked out the same flowers, had the same fights, bought the same chocolates, had the same make up sex, bought the same CD’s, Danced to the same music… So why does this not hurt? I broke up with her, and I don’t feel bad. She was everything everyone else was. But she different for this one reason, I don’t care that she’s gone, I don’t miss her smell. Her flavor of coffee her goodnight kisses her stupid walk that made her look like a penguin her knobby knees, her British accent her teeth her hair. Nothing, why?
Why don’t I miss her?

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