I am not an emptier. I can't put something down to pick something else up.
I don’t unlove someone to love someone else They pile in my heart, one on top the other until I can‘t tell them apart.
Old loves are a. bottomless well of ink in my chest, and I dip my fingers in often.
If you have ever known my love, it still exists here. This is my gift and my curse, my burden, my ache, and my fuel.
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