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Oct 20
the birds are flying backwards
(you and I are still together)
the fish swim on land
(you unpack your bags)
the attic is below ground
(you walk into my room)
the sky is red
(you tell me you always loved me)
the grass is gray
(you tell me you still do)
I cannot process the world the same way anymore
Written by
Alice  18/F/America
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