The words I'd say to you on a normal day burn in my throat like a fly who's gotten too close to the candle flame. And I know that one day, the miniscule bits of ash will add up and drown my lungs.
And when I'm dead and buried in the ground, I know that my lungs will finally be clear, because my last breath will send the ashes of words to find you, and you'll hear them, no matter where you are.
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