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The Thief
I use to see her.
I use to be so happy when I got to see her.
I miss her songs.
She would speak in the tongue of angels.
And I loved it.
I loved her.
I miss seeing her smile, then break out laughing.
Usually it was something I would say.
Some kind of joke, a funny tone of voice.
And then to top her smile off like a cherry on a sundae, I'd try to make a funny gesture and start it all again.
She'd usually laugh harder, or simply laugh again.
I miss her laugh.
Then I saw someone who stole her face.
Her laugh.
Her smile.
And her voice.
I didn't know it was someone else.
I say hi.
She says hi and introduces herself.
She's never met me.
But I've met her.
I know her.
I want to say what I couldn't.
I want to speak.
I want her.
Instead I say, I'm Nathan.
And I leave.
I leave the thief.
I leave the chance to say those unsaid words.
I walk away as it crumbles.
I walk away from the smile.
I walk away from the voice.
I walk away from the laugh.
I walk.
And I silently grieve while an angel talks behind me.
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