She was from the windy city
she blew right through me
allowed me to become more beautiful than I ever was
I hate these memories
as they are nothing more
than mistakes I still hate to admit that I made
those eyes
those lips
those hips
she still exists
it seems the idea of her has yet to die
no matter how hard
my empty arms
beg to disagree
I'll never say goodbye to moments like these
because no matter how difficult
the realization is that she's not laying by my side
my perfect memory of her
saves me every time
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