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Olive Aug 23
Her thoughts are like a hurricane,
lifting her from the ground of sanity
and tossing her among the rubble of darkness.
Olive—
WCA Apr 2014
She was destructively beautiful,
Aimlessly honest,
Wistfully vacant, with purpose.
She held such maddening sadness in her eyes.
And I knew, in the mist of the most dangerous of moments.
For when her blue dress flirted with my fingertips,
I knew that she would destroy me,
And I would spend the rest of my days trying to forget her.
Yet how perplexingly remarkable it is indeed,
To feel anything at all.

— The End —