Fade.

Its easy to fall away from the margins. Easier still when you know that the only thing that ever held you back from the corners was simply you. Things fade when no one gives a shit about them. And when its eleven, I'll let it lie.

But ghosts breathe too, you know. And the palest of them is flesh enough to haunt.

Maybe someday you'll learn what I know. I'll see you then. When we'll both be crawling on the floor.

Goodbye.

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