He's been gone for forever, years. Yet I can still feel the sickly contamination he left on everything. It clings to the walls like cobwebs, and clings to me. It coats my teeth like flat soda.
I will scrub every inch of him from this house, from me. I will scrub out my chest cavity with sharp and sparkling glass sand, and put my ticking clockwork heart back in it's place. And I will start once again, tenuously, to breathe. Really truly breathe.
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