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Mar 2016
Paint me like the burnt air.
Unwanted, careless and forcibly inhaled.

Paint me like the bruises on my chin.
Blue hued, swollen and new.

Paint me like blood.
Flowing and hidden, threatening to flood out.

Paint my pain.
No one else knows, I so desperately need to share.

In vain, paint me
In vain, paint me in vain.
The North Star
Written by
The North Star  RA 6h 45m 9s | Dec -16° 4
(RA 6h 45m 9s | Dec -16° 4)   
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