The pitter patter of rain,
Dresses me up like mother.
I do not look beautiful,
I look soaked in my freedom.
I look rugged and vengeful.
I look as though I could be,
The mortal who tore the sky.
E.N
I was best friends
with the moon.
He told me stories
about the stars.
He told me how they saved him.
from the all loneliness.
He says only he can hear them.
He says that its his gift.
He says that they tell him
of who they u...
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Your eyes change color as your god intended.
Your smile glows as if angels reflected their light off.
Your home stenches of bibles,
And my burned skin.
Your bedroom holds fires of wanted demons.
The magic cards express ...
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