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Jan 7
The blue creeps over the skies, such a harshly lit blue.
The green creeps over the lands, so lush - you'll scarcely see the hidden thorns.

But -
I cannot go back to the blue & the green.

She hangs my thoughts to dry in the yellow -
Her eyes creep along my bodyline, my body lies - my aura denies.

I'm not weak, but my heart needs to shrink.

Written by Eshan de Lange
History repeats itself. But not quite yet.
Written by
Eshana  25/F/South Africa
(25/F/South Africa)   
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