Portion, The Thirty Herd


A portion of me will always feel empty without you.

A portion of you will always be lost inside of me,

like a tumbling weed

like a freak wake

like a stolen kiss

like a dream forgotten.

You’re the portion of me, I’ll never own, but always enjoy.

We are a collage made from all the people we’ve met, fought, fucked…

They stay within us, as we stay within them -that’s how we love them.

It’s clear to me, that I’m nothing without you, and I’m everything, because the portions make the whole, and vice versa.

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