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red was the blood, like blossoms in July orange tinted lips, the ones that told me good bye yellow was the stairwell, the last place you went green was your text, the last text you sent blue were your tears, shimmering like gold purple was your face as your body lay cold white were the lilies, for which you were named white were the lilies, the ones I lay on your grave.
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Apr 8, 2021
Apr 8, 2021 at 1:26 AM UTC
Colours of Mortality
red was the blood, like blossoms in July orange tinted lips, the ones that told me good bye yellow was the stairwell, the last place you went green was your text, the last text you sent blue were your tears, shimmering like gold purple was your face as your body lay cold white were the lilies, for which you were named white were the lilies, the ones I lay on your grave.
I saw a poem called rainbow suicide and I thought it was beautiful. I wrote one from my own experience of having to watch my best friend die.
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Apr 8, 2021
Apr 8, 2021 at 1:26 AM UTC
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