lunes, noviembre 6


I feel the cold iron of your armor in my chest.

another sweet way of saying goodbye this time.

Sour lies and sharp shots to cool down an already icy November.

I knew some,
I once had the patience. It might as well have just been hope.

Chords in a loop in your messy head.
I snuggle your freckles whilst kissing your forearm.

I got the love, the warmth, the innocence
to free up your world's overwhelming anxiety.

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