There isn’t any hope here.

It didn’t take long for you to leave. It didn’t take long for my predictions to peak.
The future with me you swore you wanted was an illusion brought on by thirst.
I’ve got to stop wandering in deserts.
The words were just right,  your actions were too…I’m honestly utterly confused.
But ghosts don’t want to speak with the living.  They don’t want to take any blame. People become ghosts because they are horribly afraid. 
You dissipated in the sand.  My fingers suddenly no longer intertwined in your hand. 
My only solace in this desert waste is knowing ghosts can feel. That I’ll sick my demons on you, rip at the insides in your mind. You will never have a moment of peace. They will tear you apart one selfish piece at a time.


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