I stood at that door

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I soaked up all the memories,

Bathed them in flickering flashbacks,

Sometimes I’m still right in front of you.

But I can only see you from afar.

Each memory gradually fading.

But even if I turned back,

the past would slip through my hands.

I’ve changed.

Not like a season, but forever,

like the tide that never returns

the same way twice.

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