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This emotion runs deep.
Deeper than words can speak.
A burning sensation held deep inside her heart.
She knew she had to feel it some day from the start.
But now that she felt it, she thinks it will never let go.
Held deep inside her , you never see it, it will never show.
These feelings she held for so long.
Trapping her self in the dark forgetting right or wrong.
Her heart cries when she thinks of this emotion.
Trying to tell this depression yet she starts choking.....
She's not joking, words unspoken, STILL...............
Bo.When Lindsay was born, Bo was there. Standing beside her mother, he was the first thing she ever saw. But he was not her father; her father stood on the other side.
Bo was there until the very moment she died.
The sun shone bright through the windows of her pink-laden room. She loved pink. And black.
“Because Bo is black,” she’d told her parents.
Her imaginary friend, they soon concluded.
“Bo is all black,” she described one night as her father tucked her in, “His skin and his hair and everything. He doesn’t talk a lot.”
Her father frowned.
“He sounds scary.”
“He’s not,” she insisted.
Bo sat on the bed and said nothing.
Her father kissed her good night and turned out the light.
“Why can’t Dad see you?” she asked.
“Are you real?”
“Are you real?” he replied.
“How do you know?”
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