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Rated: E · Prose · Death · #1031676
A love no longer returned
No need for love

It’s a very sad affair, no need for love. No need for tenderness, no need for touch.

Is she a rock? So well hidden to be discovered? So deep she appears to have no bottom, so shallow, words of endearment reach out, simply put, to ears that have the inability to hear.

If you could look inside you could see the sanity of her choice.

At one time she sang with the wind, played with the joy of love, exhilarated in his sheer presence.

His touch was pain, pleasure, warm, cold. Neither true nor false, undying or dead.

He was gone from sight but not from mind. He was ingrained in her brain like a computer virus. Deleted, again and again, but returning with a vengeance to infect her mentality, eating away slowly, savagely, consuming all the files of her thoughts with his will, his essence, leaving no room for any other but himself.

She had no need for love. It’s a very sad affair, no need for love. It leaves you lost and lonely, without a will to survive. The pain is so unbearable. No one else can eliminate it, no one else can feel it, and it feeds and grows and multiplies.

No need for love, it feeds hate, but leaves wanting, it feeds anger but needs sympathy. It cries abandonment, but results in sweet memories.

No need for love, it’s a sad state of affair, when it infects the mind to the point of no return. A tear falls, her arm falls, a bottle falls, and his picture fades from her sight, she slips away with the knowledge that HE has no need for love.
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