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There’s something about
ebony hues,
and how I’m terribly fond of them;
be it on cats, or hats, or shoes,
the sweater my mom gave to me,
the guitar she brought home
from one of her trips,
my bag that’s torn in some places,
or the hoodie I keep as a memento.
Like the color of your hair,
or the color of your shoes,
dark as a lightless night
but still clear as day.

And I know
you’re afraid of the dark
but I hope that the dark isn’t so scary
when we’re facing it together.

I hate you
and there are a dozen things
I want to tell you
right now
but I just want you to know
that I
will never forget you.
These past few days
just seemed so unreal,
but I’m glad that they happened.
Oh, and I think you’re real cool.
I love you
to the Moon
and back,
and all my stars
are realigning.
Keep I love you from
ever becoming a reflex response.
It's the Monday Blues.
That words are divine,
But that poetry
Is made by living:

Become the poem.
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