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Aug 2017
In the desolation when I think of you,
I feel like embracing fire.
Black, red, destructive.
In the noise when I think of you, I feel like holding a rose.
Beautiful, dainty, painful.
At night when I think of you, I feel like holding a bent book.
Broken, imperfect, indifferent.
In the morning when I think of you, I feel like looking at the sun.
Prism, untouchable, poison.
You are the sun, and I am the eyes,
taking in every ounce of pain just to see your light.
Ali Rodriguez
Written by
Ali Rodriguez  17/F
(17/F)   
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