html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> Our Dark Prophecy
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I don’t know why I am still writing about you. It has been almost a year since you left me. I can hardly believe that it has been that long, and I still think about you every goddamn day.

The band who sang “our song” is no longer together. It’s funny how that worked out, because you and I aren’t either. Maybe that was a sign that we were going to fail; that we were destined to fall apart.

My knowledge of you is fading. What was your favorite food? What was your father’s name? What town were you from? Please tell me, because I don’t want to forget.

Your name is written on my thighs. I did it where only I could see so the therapist wouldn’t yell at me for it.

I forgot to tell you- they sent me back to the hospital. I took a lot of pills. One for everyday you have been gone.

Fuck I don’t even believe in god but I stayed up until 4am crying and screaming at him to bring you back

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-even if i sent these texts, you wouldn’t care enough to read them (via p-sychologiical)