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grey-vitzke
grey-vitzke
Earth
Our eyes met for the first time in a long while There was pain But that was to be expected I am no longer sure that I am more wrecked For you asked me a question And I paused a second, thinking Replying a moment too late We can still make jokes at each others expense I am not sure how much they hurt you But they still sting my heart
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Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 12:33 AM UTC
Jokes
You devour my idle moment’s mind I’ve banished you, but you will not leave We could have ruled the world From atop our tower Instead it sits on that hill top A reminder of my lost conquest I cannot return to it alone Am I the wronged, or you? I refuse to bury you in titles “Betrayer, Fool, Heartbreaker” You are not these I complicated you And now you have repaid all your debts Nearly
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Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 12:31 AM UTC
Atop Our Tower
The sun set over the crematorium the world paused for a second, it was still, and there was peace.
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Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 12:27 AM UTC
6/12/15 Obituary
Today was written in Technicolor. It was like waking up from a nap on a huge open field and seeing the greenest of all greens in the grass and the bluest of blues in the sky and the most blinding whites in the clouds. It was the warmest brown in the eyes of the one who is laying next to you. And the day rolls by slowly, in the sharpest focus. It is perfect and not too hot and not too windy and I feel as though it should last forever because I do not want to leave this day or this moment. But the sun surely sinks, until it is at the edge of the horizon and it casts a sepia light over the world. Under this light, where before I had thought it could not get more beautiful, it is like a dream, where the world is frozen in amber. Brown Eyes laughs when I ask if we could stay here forever. We cannot, for the sun sets and the stars appear and shine and laugh with Brown Eyes. I laugh too, but it is odd laughter for behind it’s sound is a melancholic harmony, one that comes after technicolor days. Because now the world might seem a bit bland and empty. Technicolor days are sad and beautiful.
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Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 12:23 AM UTC
Technicolor Days
One crimson morning the sun rose and I bled out across the sky. My veins pumped life into the dawn. The razor was a mirror into the eyes of the sun and it was hot, and scalded the sink. My wrists were surrogate wings that lifted me as they drained. Ribbons of molten rust ran down my fingers. Silent drops patterned the floor, a mural of red on white. Streaming through the window the rays glinted off my ashen eyes. I will not be forgiven.
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Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC
One Crimson Morning
Come do something crazy with me I can’t stay cooped up in this house any longer Fake heartbreak won’t stop me from being spontaneous Besides, I’m over it already Now I need to start again Come do something crazy with me Let's learn how to live Let’s learn how to fall in love
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Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 12:15 AM UTC
Come Do Something Crazy With Me