I just cleaned out my closet. I should have from the onset. Not my bedroom’s but my heart. For you are like the corset that chokes me. It suffocates and holds my heart and lungs, just like you haunt me. I need to lose you. Like books I never read, you are a road I took that leads to nowhere—torturous. I don’t need you. You are like the clutter tolerance and intolerance made me keep. Though I couldn’t say it didn’t matter, you have proven not to be worth my time and space. Like a broken oven we are sometimes cold and then hot. Unlike my lace, denim and colour, we aren’t timeless, our fashion is over. Behind your charming smile is deceit. Just like my old receipts, I am getting rid of you. For what we had, and never [will] is priceless, no need for paper. Still, I had to write you this letter to say; find another room where you can stay.

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