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I hate the way people pronounce my name
like I've never meant a thing,
that if I disappeared
no one would notice.
There would just be an empty desk,
an unoccupied room,
with faded memories
of a person who used to be part of a life, but isn't.
And sometimes someone would think about
that girl who used to be,
or find a memory that
reminded them of me.
That thought would float away,
and I would go back to being
sickness, sadness,
or an empty chair.
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