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Feb 2015
All I can taste is blood.
I don’t know if it’s mine, or yours, or even hers.
I do know that my morning tea has not yet washed away the taste of your lips.
No, no it must not be yours.

You lost yours wings, and fell,
As I gained mine and began to ascend.
You passed me on your way down
and your eyes caught me,
Pulling me down with you.
I saw the pain in your eyes as you saw your wings were gone,
So I took a knife to mine,
Today is not the day I die.

We have matching scars now,
And I kiss your shoulder blades whenever they are exposed to me.
You’ve never done the same to me,
But I don’t mind.
You see yours as a curse,
And sure,
Mine are a burden,
But let it be known,
I will do almost anything for you.
I won’t die for you,
But I’ll live for you.
I think about you a lot these days.
Olivia Rose
Written by
Olivia Rose  New York City
(New York City)   
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