on what would have been our first anniversary i cleaned out what was left of my old house.
she was there when i moved in.
we dreamed and kissed on the barren bedroom floor.
her ghost is still there now.
her hair in the bathtub.
a hairclip and an earring on the windowsill.
she was the first.
the first girl i loved.
the house is a monument
of all that once was.
lying alone on my bedroom floor
i review a love now dead
and if my murder was indeed justified.
you always remember your first kill.
with all things one must move on.
we just always hope its on to something better.
10:32 a.m. - 2005-09-16
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