People don’t tell you that in life, you grieve the living too. The death of things you once knew.
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People don’t tell you that in life, you grieve the living too. The death of things you once knew.
the living get buried in fragments
conversations that no longer land
smiles that no longer reach
rooms you once knew that feel smaller every day
grief is not reserved for endings
it is the soft hustle of absence in the middle of everything
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