Becka

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Reaching, grasping,
gripping nothing.
Falling forward…

missing…

I didn’t miss not seeing you until I knew I couldn’t.
You were taken. Erased.
I desperately need to remember you.
Never forget.
 I can’t recall… fighting, but fading slowly.
All your annoyances are forgiven.
Hindsight not helping… But all I have left.
I hate and value it more with each passing day.
God needed another angel;
He picked you.
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