Defective

Desolate. Flight to nowhere, my eyes are dead.
Mixing memories with his experiences, projecting myself onto him.
Feeling the betrayal of years past. Remembering learning that friendship doesn't quite mean anything.
People move on and forget you, especially when you treat them well.
I caused this for myself, now for him.
Humans thirst so desperately for companionship, we drink fire into our throats.
There is not one without evil.
A defective species, bringing pain upon it's own.

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