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Jul 2018 · 307
03.15.17
Mary Alexander Jul 2018
I'm writing this while you're passed out on the couch,
Hoping the clicking of these keys won't cause your breath to catch
And your stormy eyes to fly open,
You restless, high-strung boy.
You're an eagle who is afraid of heights.
With the most beautiful wings and
The most piercing eyes you stare at the sky,
Waiting for the perfect moment.
But you don't know that life cannot be planned.
You cannot measure love, put a limit on hope or
Estimate faith.
But you. Stubborn, stubborn you,
Will attempt to find the ultimate equation
No matter how exhausted you become.
No matter how many sleepless nights come as a result.
I look down the rising and falling of your chest,
The small crease between your brows,
And I know you're scribbling a hypothesis
In some bizarre, ****** up dream.
looking at old stuff with a new perspective
Jul 2018 · 258
Untitled
Mary Alexander Jul 2018
they know
they see
they hear, they feel.
the raw pain,
the magnitude of it
crashing,
surging through the glass eyes of those
right in front of them.
yet still, they stand by
and observe
simply.
patiently assuming.
Jun 2018 · 675
please
Mary Alexander Jun 2018
Sweetheart, look to the mountains.
Their unwavering power. Their
Still, magnificent beauty.
Please climb them with me.

Sweetheart, look to the ocean.
It's vast mystery. The
Cleansing, crashing waves.
Please swim in them with me.

Sweetheart, look to the stars.
Their ancient compass, their
Never- ending hope.
Please dance under them with me.

Please say yes
Just this once.

just once.

once
May 2018 · 331
one day later
Mary Alexander May 2018
I wanted to speak of the infinite
To chase the stars and lose
myself in the waves.
I wanted to scream of the unheard.
To challenge the unmoveable and
Rise through winds laced with flame.
I wanted to keep moving.
But you always preferred standing still.
Jan 2018 · 382
conscious pt. 2
Mary Alexander Jan 2018
I just realized that
Hearts are like street lamps.
Some are warm and ready to
Guide, assure, and welcome,
While others instill fear, as
They flicker in and out with
An ugly fluorescence, just
Waiting to be replaced.
It used to take me a while to
Figure out who had which lamp.
and that, my friends, is what made high school my own personal hell.
Dec 2017 · 1.7k
conscious
Mary Alexander Dec 2017
i thought about you today.
quite a ****** experience, to be honest.
the iron box full of
sick confessionals that is your heart
made me squint at the wall in front of me.
my pen stopped writing and fell
down my frayed scrap of paper
like a raindrop on a car window, and
i felt like a child confronted by a nasty bug.
picturing your face.
im still staring at the wall wondering
if these thoughts deserve any
complex, wrinkled thesaurus found words.
i frown as i notice a crack in the paint.
they dont.
Oct 2017 · 534
Winter
Mary Alexander Oct 2017
His heart was like winter,
Cold but exciting.
My most favorite season,
With crisp piercing lighting.
Adventures and chills,
Through my messy black hair.
Sharp, lovely breeze,
Through the whispering air.
But as the show thickened,
The ice became tough,
And I shivered and realized,
My coat wasn't warm enough.
Haven't seen the dude in like four years and he's out of the country where is my mind.
Sep 2017 · 487
Blue Velvet
Mary Alexander Sep 2017
She wanders.
Her soul and body,
Always searching,
Never ceasing.
The waves in her
Soft blue eyes
Roll and crash in
A continuous cycle
Longing for something
More. Always something
Bigger than what
She's given. For
It will never be enough.
For a friend
Jul 2017 · 228
random thought 1
Mary Alexander Jul 2017
I want to sprint through
Cities with him
Until my heart bursts.
Jun 2017 · 435
The Odd One
Mary Alexander Jun 2017
The one I lost
Not long ago,
Whose eyes were burdened
Like heavy snow,
Whose heart was closed
And rigid,
Spiked,
Who could not seem
To sleep at night,
His pain-filled eyes
Would smile and grin
And so no one saw
The true pain he was in.
I tried to reach out,
But his ice froze my hand,
Biting right through me
Till I could no longer stand.
About a past love that still confuses me
Mar 2017 · 742
The Introvert's Panic
Mary Alexander Mar 2017
Bright lights are deafening
And sounds cloud my vision.
Voices are magnified and
Spaces are enclosing as I
Gasp for breath, as I
Muffle small cries.
Faces. So many faces
Blurring together and I
Grab at the air, begging it
To quit it's fighting with
My stubborn lungs.
It's incredible.
All this noise, all these screams,
And I haven't moved an inch.
Inside the mind.
Mar 2017 · 276
lack of translation
Mary Alexander Mar 2017
I could spend days
Months, years,
Trying to figure out
What to say
To you.
But you see,
No amount
Of time
Will help me
To decide
What this feeling is.
It's a mess. An amazing, beautiful mess.
Mar 2017 · 336
blue-green haze
Mary Alexander Mar 2017
His eyes are like the sea.
Filled with a sense of otherness,
Tormented, calm, beautiful, and dangerous
All at once and
I am breathless in return.
its fine im fine
Feb 2017 · 274
III
Mary Alexander Feb 2017
III
Wilting voices
Are calling to the stars.
Am I the only one who hears?
Jan 2017 · 2.6k
Storm
Mary Alexander Jan 2017
He was like a thunderstorm.
Not in the usual sense,
With a roaring voice or
Overwhelming showers,
But in the way a thunderstorm
Reminds you of a fireplace
And blankets and smiles.
The way a thunderstorm
Reminds you of home.
Mary Alexander Jan 2017
For your sake,
I hope the world sees you
As you see yourself.
Jan 2017 · 2.1k
No Right
Mary Alexander Jan 2017
You left a scab which
Took too long to form,
And my healing heart
Was all dead and worn.
You have no right
To come back and do this,
Checking me off
Like an item on your To-Do list,
What happened to me
Was awful and cruel,
And now "never trust"
Is my number one rule.
So you have no right
To come back and say,
"Oops, I'm sorry
I treated you that way",
For shallow words do
Nothing when spoken,
To a newly healed heart,
Not ready to be broken.
Jan 2017 · 261
Made It
Mary Alexander Jan 2017
But I never once gave up, because
I still had a few low lifes to prove wrong.
Jan 2017 · 884
Oh Ella
Mary Alexander Jan 2017
"Oh Ella, what have you done?"
Must I explain again?
I've fallen in love with fear,
It's made me stronger and
Fuled my brand of fire. Is that wrong?
"Oh Ella, what have you done?"
I'll say it once,
I've learned to slap sour, poetic, spitting lips
Away from my face
With no hesitation, is that wrong?
"Oh Ella, what have you done?"
I can't keep repeating.
I walked through hell with a smile.
Skipping around flames, letting dust
Tangle in my hair. Is that wrong?
"Oh Ella, what have you done?"
Do not judge my strength.
I've raised myself on the edge
Of the lion's backbone,
Now foverever changed, safe, why is that wrong?


"Oh Ella, what have you done?"
Nothing.

I no longer answer to you.
Jan 2017 · 267
My World
Mary Alexander Jan 2017
My world is forgein shimmering lights.
Lights speeding over, around, through me
In a constant blur and
I stumble in attempt to follow.
My world is a sea of faces.
Smiling, laughing faces that
Quickly flicker and transform,
Twisiting in agony, and only I can see.
My world is a swarm of words.
Humanity's words invading my mind,
Coursing through my veins
And causing system failures in my mind.

Welcome.
Nov 2016 · 330
Pause
Mary Alexander Nov 2016
I'm caught up in your mystery,
Can't breath in your hazel eyes,
But it's okay, I promise,
My heart still beats sometimes.
just another ****** love poem by yours truly
Oct 2016 · 741
Broken Compass
Mary Alexander Oct 2016
My heart is a broken compass.
Constantly whirling,
Lost, in a constant battle with gravity.
Spinning in search for north,
But always finding itself trapped
And staring into the east of your eyes instead.
Ending up looking at the sunrise isn't the worst thing in the world though
Oct 2016 · 1.4k
Locket
Mary Alexander Oct 2016
I have a golden locket,
That hangs around my neck,
It's heavy as weighted stone,
And I'm a nervous wreck.
I keep it with me through each day,
And through the passing cold,
I keep it close, next to my heart,
Although it has grown old.
I have this ****** and rusted locket,
Filled with ash and pain,
I don't know why I wear it still,
Don't ask me to explain.
Oct 2016 · 347
Dear Stranger
Mary Alexander Oct 2016
Your eyes are piercing,
Deep as the raging sea.
And yet they dance ceaselessly
With the laughter of a child.
Your arms, tired and struggling to remain steady,
Still somehow find time
To fly across the monkey bars of your youth.
Your words, often in constant motion,
Often filled with diverting, musical nothings, can be
Replaced with a love made clear, yearning to understand.
So what I ask of you,
Dear Stranger,
Is that you'll promise yourself,
The kind, loving theorist and the wonderfully outlandish child
Both,
That you'll leave neither behind,
Cherishing the two forever
As you make your way through the maze
That is this life.
Doing a little project with observing people. I have two other people I want to write about. The guy in this one is just an obviously insanely complex person, so it was an easy one to start with even though I haven't quite figured out who he is yet.
Sep 2016 · 355
Untitled
Mary Alexander Sep 2016
He was a river
That never made it to the sea, and instead
Slowed and seeped
Into the dirt,
Causing wanderers to slip
And fall as they encountered him.
Mary Alexander Aug 2016
Missing you is reflected
In the instability of my bones.
I walk with a long stride but am interrupted by my knee
Sliding smoothly out of its socket,
Causing its usual functions to become impossible
As straightening my leg sends shooting pain through the entire limb.
Missing you is reflected in my lifetime insomnia.
Waking in a cold sweat at 3:00 am
After 2 weeks of successful, undisturbed sleep.
Waking in the early morning of the one day which requires every possible ounce of energy.

But ultimately, missing you
Is reflected in the anger I feel towards myself.
The anger that comes from knowing what is true
Right and just.
And yet, still imagining the "if only"s.
The impossible fantasies that are somehow still creeping back into my mind
Like children's hope for fat Nicholas.  
Ignoring the knowledge that I in was in love with an idea that
Never existed.
An idea that I still sometimes wish for.
And so I limp painfully along this road with tired, bloodshot eyes,
I am angry at myself for missing you,
Angry at you, though you'll never know nor care of these musings.
And though my ******, idiotic fantasies are not of your doing.
Or are they?
The ultimate question.
Are these emotions of your doing, did you do this intentionally?
Are you aware of what occurred and what is?
Are you aware of me?
Did you ever know me.
And did I ever know you.
Because that is what angers me the most.
I miss a person that I never knew,
Do not know,
And will never understand.
And the stupidity in that is beyond my comprehension.
I've always expected better of myself.
Aug 2016 · 383
Mad Boy
Mary Alexander Aug 2016
I was born Alice,
Falling down dark holes of confusion and grief,
Creating a small, glimmering world of my own.
A world which no one could see,
Which no one would want to see.
But a world in which I was content
To dwell alone. But not truly.
I was not comfortable.
I was restless. Hurting.
Chasing rabbits,
Unaware that they were always,
Always chasing something else.
And so I wandered and wondered
Alone.
Still blinking in a daze at the blinding world
That I'd surrounded myself with
Despite my loneliness.
But then I met a curious individual
Who unlike all the others,
Seemed to see the wonders I'd created,.
He was perfectly, undeniably Mad.
And I sprinted towards the familiar madness,
Stunned by the accidental speed,
As I only had time to blink twice before
The Mad Boy and I were skipping in circles,
Screaming flat, mixed notes,
And I had a child's grin on my face.
And then we were drinking a tea which filled us with delight,
Inducing cackling laughter as we
Stood by the rail of a glimmering bridge we'd created,
Pitching perfect, pristine teacups over the edge
While harvesting the chipped, stained ones,
Which we found more beautiful than the others.
Soon we were sprinting through a field of roses,
Accidentally trampling some
With his strange, glowing, purple and orange boots
And my weathered, black, out of character mary janes.
Sprinting faster, faster until
We reach a field of mismatched wildflowers.
And I have just enough time to share final glance
With my Mad Boy
Before I take my third blink.
Mary Alexander Aug 2016
The moment those words sparked from your fingertips,
My heart simultaneously
Broke into billions of pieces
At your hand, one last time,
And my mind was filled with an indifference
That I could no longer control.
An indifference that my heart
Had previously overpowered,
But you see, now that my heart is scattered.
Like the ashes of a withered ancient woman
Over the sea, it can no longer remind
My stubborn mind of
The past, and what could be the present.
It's a curious thing-
Feeling nothing. After four long weeks
Of feeling everything
Despite remaining silent for my
Intense emotions were worthless.
Worthless emotions, worthless if expressed
In any form.
Eyes, arms, song, words spoken or recorded.
Worthless.
The pain of this knowledge.
The pain of love that I did not want but
Could no longer control.
But now
As I weave these words together,
My fingers clicking away
Drifting to a place far from my body.
But now,
The shards of my heart, swarming through space,
Desperately in search for one another,
I feel nothing.
It's no longer in my hands
Aug 2016 · 2.0k
Constant Goofy Smiles
Mary Alexander Aug 2016
Indirectly,
Timidly, yet
Clearly
Making plans and
Testing waters.
must resist the urge to burst into song every five seconds.
Jul 2016 · 1.0k
Millenial Witches
Mary Alexander Jul 2016
My generation is swarming
With new kinds of witches.
Some will be obvious,
Lurking and spitting, throwing
Daggers from the corners of every room.
But on occasion, one will be covert,
With sweet dresses and
Beautiful hair cascading down her shoulders.
Greeting those around her
With a charming smile and wide, bright eyes.
But she weaves a web of deciet and triffling words,
And as she speaks, she clouds your mind, speaking
In foreign tongues which are not
Of this true world, until you
Are caught unaware, for her spell has been cast.
You blink, confused, and look down at your hands,
Trying to ignore the impending sensation of insects
Creeping up your arms
Until you realize.
You realize that her spells are not those of darkness and horror,
They do not come in forms such as toads, dark clouds, or anguish.
Her power, her only power
Is that of one way time travel.
And when she casts her spell, her words take you back
To when you were simple, childish,
12 years of age.
Her words come out in flames,
Painful, cruel flames that scortch your heart,
You fight back, begging her to stop
And realize the pain she is inflicting,
Until you suddenly notice that the words are meaningless.
Words, painful words,
But from a child's mouth.
And you stare at her in horror when your past self
Flees your being while her's remains.
Her words, still shooting from her mouth, now
Small, plastic bullets from
A child's gun.
They sting your skin, but no longer scortch your heart.
She then flies away, charming smile back in place,
Leaving you swaying in utter shock, praying
That her next victim will posess your same
Awareness, and sense the truth behind the flames.
It's terrifying.
Jul 2016 · 608
My Pit of Color
Mary Alexander Jul 2016
A thin, yet deadly electric shock
Weaves it's way through my rib cage
In a gentle,
Silent pattern towards my heart.
It's gentleness ceases the moment it hits it's target,
Causing a pain so sharp and persistent that
I am forced to collapse into an angry colored pit filled with confusion and never-ending words.
I blink as my eyes adjust to my ever-changing surroundings and
A brilliant green consumes my mind first,
Bringing a warm sense of safety and trust as my heart
Finds its beat again.
But soon it quickens as a visitor of ivory consumes my being,
And I squeeze my eyes shut against the past white-hot pain
Flashing in front of me before
It is overcome by a powerful red,
Causing tremors to travel in sparks
Up and down my vulnerable arms, and
There's anger, oh so much anger, and my eyes are burning and
I cannot breathe until my surroundings dissolve into
The purest of golds, and I am in a daze.
In pure wonder of what was, a faint smile creeps onto my lips
As I hear a soft, distant laughter, my own mischievous laughter,
That fills me with warmth.
And I shiver when my last visitor comes, envelopes me in
A beautiful deep violet storm of words
Past and present, confusing me and tangling themselves in my mind,
I whip my head around, searching for a way out of this pit
Only to find that there are no doors, there is no escape for me.
I succumb to the bewilderment and allow the violet mass to fully
Enter my mind, which was previously blocked off,
As I try to search my memories for one clue,
One sign to aid my feeble efforts of unraveling this tangled
Purple wire.
And nothing is there.
I am the ultimate mess. Wish me luck.
Jul 2016 · 379
The Memories
Mary Alexander Jul 2016
My blanket is a sheet of ice, and my mattress
An uneven boulder with an angry ripple digging into my
Spine as hot tears form thundering rivers down my face.
My face,
Completely still, omitting the occasional blink of my stinging, dull eyes.
My eyes, a vault, containing the hourglass that has become my mind
Where I've collapsed, trembling,
With golden sands streaming from above, somehow finding their way
Into my eyes and mouth as I desperately cross my pale arms
Over my head in a weak attempt
To block The Memories from streaming into my conscious.
No movement. Numb
Still no awareness of my true world other than the wetness of my cheeks,
And the sharp pain which
Is beginning to travel down my spine.
And the sand has surrounded me, obstructing my vision
With their golden projections of The Past,
Burning my eyes and seeping into the cracks
Of the walls around my heart
As I let out my first choking sob,
Causing a painful tremor down my back,
And forcing me to **** away from the rock beneath me.
I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping that I can remove The Memories
From my mind.
I hug my knees to my chest and pray for some
Reprieve.
Praying for
Rest.
Praying for The Numbness to return.
Mary Alexander Jun 2016
I can't decide
If I am dying, praying to forget,
Or  
If I'm thankful that I don't know how to.
It's a mess. Fighting so hard, but not being able to do anything.
Jun 2016 · 461
1997
Mary Alexander Jun 2016
A girl was born with ebony hair,
With blazing eyes,
And a piercing stare.
She sprinted through childhood.
Skipping many moments.
And she forgot what it meant to be young,
Lacking burdens.
Her heart pounded with a fire that could
Outlast all her failures,
But didn't have time time for cruel
Passing faces.
She grew accustomed to loss.
She took it in stride,
And her laughter remained
Until something in her died.
Her patience grew thin with the plain, naive youth.
She did not understand
Why none spoke the truth.
The fire in her heart grew deadly, impatient.
And her restless soul was gasping
Looking for understanding, non-existent.
But she squared her shoulders;
Embracing the story she'd told,
And saw that her lion's heart remained,
Along with her fire guarded soul.
May 2016 · 412
1:48 AM
Mary Alexander May 2016
My efforts are feeble.
My heart flickers like a dying lightbulb
As the power of my hope is burns out.
Words spoken at 1:48 am are seared into the depths of my mind.
And I realize that I cannot.
My mouth must remain sealed
And my dangerous, sparking, failing heart,
Blocked off.
Because my efforts are feeble.
And I am lost and full of hate.
May 2016 · 392
Recurrent
Mary Alexander May 2016
A generally unattractive face,
Wild, untamed locks of ebony,
Eyes of piercing, explosive fire,
Bruised and ****** shaking hands.
A mind with an unquenchable thirst for understanding,
A hardened heart filled with self hatred and doubt,
The list goes on and on.
And yet am I always surprised when it's not me.
May 2016 · 319
No Longer Dancing
Mary Alexander May 2016
When the rain is falling down and
I can't feel my toes.
The hope which I felt
Is receding from my veins and
I'm falling.
The numbness is back and
Making its way through my fingertips,
Up my sparking, wired arms as I stare dully
At this wall in front of me
In the rain.
Little streams of water trickle from my newly tangled hair,
Obscuring my vision.
I can no longer dance in the rain because
My white dress, once light like leaves in the wind,
Is grey, and clinging to my shivering form like a crawling second skin.
I turn my heavy head, and when I see that no one is there,
I allow myself to sink down
To close my eyes and feel the cold.
When reality hits and floods
Mary Alexander May 2016
You wake up and realize
That all you want in this world
Is for oceans to part so that
You can be with the one who you can't live without.
May 2016 · 392
The Greatest
Mary Alexander May 2016
When they enter a room,
A warmth floods your being.
Your heart beats faster.
Looking into their eyes,
Your head spins, you forget the world.
Holding them is like flying, with them, you can withstand all trials.
The person who confuses you and gives you a love without a label.
Love in its simplest form-
Two people.
The person, the only person who you want to spend 500 lifetimes with,
Never expected.
The person, the soul that you wish to hold forever.
You ask yourself, "what is this?"
For it truly makes no sense.
But that is why the purest love is the greatest riddle of all time.
May 2016 · 411
Stares
Mary Alexander May 2016
When my glance meets his stare
I am lost in his eyes.
I panick, burned by the intensity,
And dart my own eyes to the side.
Longing to reach out and trace the lines of his shadowed face out of pure wonder
With my pale, trembling fingers.
Wishing in that same moment,
That I am inside his arms
Where I am home, and steady and at peace.
But when he reaches for me, I begin to tremble, out of fear, the fear of my own heart.
And when I pull away, and my frozen stare meets his burning one,
My mind goes blank and my breathing stops.
I'm a mess
May 2016 · 1.1k
The Self Righteous
Mary Alexander May 2016
There's nothing I hate more,
Than judgemental, snarky people,
Who roam this earth,
Assuming that their words are harmless, but always true.
It's a major turn off for me.
May 2016 · 222
Heartbreak
Mary Alexander May 2016
When you are like me,
Heartbreak makes a sound.
A heavy pounding sound.
It's so loud that is shatters your mind until nothing is left.
But as I look around, I realize that I am the only one who hears.
May 2016 · 375
Insane
Mary Alexander May 2016
Are you insane like me?
Do you dream in vivid color, and walk on roads of ice?
Do you live in a mind,
Where nothing conventional would suffice?
Are you insane like me?
Can you hyper focus on a certain pair of eyes?
But only those eyes.
Are you chased by visions of legends and ghosts of loves that will never exist?
Are you insane like me?
With the heart of a lion, and a soul filled with fire,
But still somehow cold as stone with a mind hard as iron?
Unbending.
Are you insane like me?
Do you walk at a different speed than those around you?
Always aware of the chilling fact that your pace is too fast?
Yet aware that the speed isn't caused your physical body,
But more by your soul and the codes hidden in your strangely mystical DNA?
Are you insane like me?
Can you trace patterns in the air with your fingertips?
Can you zoom in and out with your senses?
Can you lose control of your daydreams
And forget of the one who is trying to reach your mind?
Are you insane like me?
And fully aware that a mind like yours is something that cannot be understood or reached?
If so, can I ask you something?

Do you feel alone like me?
Apr 2016 · 293
Sea of Faces
Mary Alexander Apr 2016
I was wandering through life.
Looking around me I watch as I see faces transformed.  
Smiles and bright eyes
Now cracked lips and salted cheeks;
Unmasked.
As I wandered through life,
I yearned to touch every soul with my earnest, trembling fingers,
And bring the sweet smiles and eyes of laughter back
Into the faces of those I love.
But I had forgotten the reasons behind my trembling fingers.
My own face, warped by the never ending confusion that is this life.
I ignored my pain and shoved it aside.
I made a fragile wish,
But my denial and staggering steps through the sea of faces
Would only drown me.
Apr 2016 · 243
Leave
Mary Alexander Apr 2016
No, I don't want to leave you.
I never want to leave you.
But I want to leave this.
Because I don't know what it is anymore.
Apr 2016 · 451
Sour Love
Mary Alexander Apr 2016
Nice, so sweet.
So charming.
It's very charming.
I stare blankly, as I see lemon juice
dripping from your lips as you spit sour poetry in my face.
I'm allergic to lemons.
Apr 2016 · 653
By Choice
Mary Alexander Apr 2016
I am being tortured by choice.
I have screamed until not even the slightest whimper can escape my lips.
And I lie there silent, telling myself
That it's fine.
I want this.
Don't I?
I shake there violently
Waiting for some reprieve,
While knowing all the while that it will never come.
I sit there, shivering.
Surrounded by unwanted emotions and
Waiting patiently for the next blow against my pale, fragile spine.
Apr 2016 · 391
And I
Mary Alexander Apr 2016
Truths fight like machines,
Inside my pounding, aching head
Just as the sky blinks.
Four hands scraping over harsh brick in foolish hope that they'll find eachother.
Four eyes searching for answers and reason for things that they'll never understand,
And the stars go out.
Two hearts that used to function like clockwork
Suddenly stumble and fall in the darkness because of confusing, stupid sentiment.
And I am lost.
My hands bleed,
My eyes go blind,
My heart fails.
As the time races past me and leaves me in the dust of what's lost.
Apr 2016 · 349
No sense
Mary Alexander Apr 2016
I am too young
To be this
Angry, hurting, empty
Girl.
Mary Alexander Mar 2016
We sprint through the trees.
And we are alive,
Our hearts burning as hot as the stars above our heads.
With a devilish glint in my eyes
And a lopsided grin on his face
We pick up our speed.
The moon breaks through my hair
And his laugh pierces through the chilled autumn leaves.
We don't slow our pace.
I feel the white hot pain beginning to spread through my limbs
Just as we reach the cliff and collapse,
Feeling nothing but the thrill and joy
That comes with our secret place
Where we cannot be followed.
My greatest little story never told
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