matching wings
your halo was golden, mine
was silver.
who we was
wasn't even relevant
until death came
and slit the
bag
from off my
face.
it didn't matter
that I didn't
want to
breathe.
it didn't matter
that sun
supersedes rain
way
way
up
there.
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
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