12/16/2017 what could have beenas ashes fall to dust,
and darkness fades to dawn, sweet hellos melt to farewells, and your skin is touched by the final trace of night. the roots of the morning bury themselves deep within your scarlet-tinted cheeks and trail like thick vines of ivy up and around the garden that is you. and just as bones fall into ashes, and dawn fades back to dusk, I fell out of you just the same. so tonight, i'll raise my glass to the mess of what could have been. Comments are closed.
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