It is my suspicion, my cunning intuition that tosses my mind into limbo of thoughts and interpretation
She has lost all her love for my heart
and I'm replaced with tangible turmoil and materials that neglect what it is to truly love
I'm residing within depths and canals with the pieces of what was my passion and soul
She's lingering amongst his fortunes with fine wines and portrays her role
..... as his lover
I'm simply a memory
Present beneath the diamonds
Tucked away behind the fabric of her Prada and Versace
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