Ego

I took the letters of the words you said

to write the stories of my days ahead,

I layed unconscious, yet aware

of arrows aiming at my bed.

I had a longing for a scent I loved,

but would love further to forget,

I had a need for days to change

into days we had not met.

My flattered ego was lacking roots,

your empty silence speaking truth,

I asked for days to bring me news,

and sat as time outran my youth.

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