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this coffee stain is the leftover
of an accident

perhaps
of the moment
i fell in love
with a girl i didn't know

and not
the coffee i spilled
standing up
to tell her i love her
Beauty is skin deep
but can cut to the bone.
I was born with skin stars and you were too
If you need two perfect people
Just look at me and you
Describe the color blue without using the word blue.*

It is the color of her eyes as you talk to her at five in the morning, just before the sun rises up. It's the color of her skin, illuminated by the hues of the skies—pale, cold, and fragile yet all at the same time safe. It's the feeling of her fingers left untouched by someone whose hands could fit perfectly in hers like puzzle pieces. It's the pulse of her heart as you walk up in her front door while she acts like she isn't home. It's the color of the waves crashing inside her brain, a mind so engulfed by an ocean of thoughts it's difficult to sway along. It's the color of her body as she walks away from you, almost like drowning—the weight crushing her slowly and then, dead all at once. It's the color of her tears, as she realizes how awful it had to be to leave you when what you two had could've been something more but will never be.
Even the brightest of birds
Get used to their cage
She's very much alive
But she is dead to me
The decision wasn't mine
She wanted to be
A tombstone in my mind
A grave inside my heart
A perpetual funeral
That has no end or start
There is no wreath to set
No flowers to lay
The only place that this exists
Is buried in my wake
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