It’s not immediately evident when you lose something. It takes its time to notice its absence. The pang you feel when you realise you’ve lost it. Your innocence. In a swirl of hazy nights and tempting smoke, you have lost who you once were, and there is no going back to it anymore. It is as irreversible as the scars on your body. As irreversible as your birth. So you accept the loss and move on with leaden intestines, heartless and it never leaves you. That sense of haunting regret. The part of you that wishes it all never happened. Yet another part of you overpowers it. The side that’s already fallen into the abyss. AND YOU STAY LOST.





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