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Feb 2019
Sensitive words
Chilling into snow.
You only come forward
Thanks to the cold.
Bereft of frozen breath
When wanting to say hello.
Acceptance of death
As a mean to an end.
You frost into me,
As a quick sense of pain,
But then you leave,
An imaginative of the brain.

I’ve seen you as celestial,
This we’ve all already known,
I've held on for so long,
It'd be a disaster to see you go.

But you were never here.
Wesley Dotson
Written by
Wesley Dotson  21/M/United States
(21/M/United States)   
147
 
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