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Time

Time passes and you begin to forget.

All too easily your father’s voice

fades from memory and

echoes of love go with it.

Time passes and you continue to forget.

When you recall his features,

they feel foreign.

His eyes were hazel,

and they were kind,

but yours are blue and apathetic.

His hair was thick and black

unlike your fine brunette locks.

Time passes and you forget

what it’s like to breathe in paint fumes

and exhale fresh cut grass.

How wood shavings feel on your skin

and the taste of birthday cake.

Time passes but some things

you will never forget.

Cold sweats and blue skin take it all away.

Sharp metal scissors snip through the brain and

time passes and

time passes and

I forgot what I wanted to say.

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