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Sep 2016
Sometimes I wonder what came first:
falling in love or falling in art?
I wanted to write words about you before we even met
and now all I do is spill you from my fingertips.

Is the space between heartbreak and art
as far apart as the distance between you and the sky
or are they concurrent?

I don't love you anymore exists parallel to this poem
and I am the incipient to the line between.
write. rid. write. rid. write. rid.
Written by
illueminate  23/F
     Survived, --- and Graff1980
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