Painter
i will always have
love for you
and your
gutlessness; these
quilt-laden brushstrokes
though
painted across the
canvas of my heart
were painted over
too many moons ago
“I have lost my dewdrops!” Cries the flower to the morning sky that has just lost all its stars... All bleeding stops eventually. I am but a collection of particles, atoms that chose to suffer in unison.
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