I can hear but you never tell me- how you feel that’s why I’m drowning- in these ashes of flames that we caused, caused to burst since we showed each other our flaws.Though we try we just fill with hatred- for the agony of the other in the other’s eyes that we painted. The canvas is still faded- faded and not shaded, dull with the raging- raging pain in the land we carved with our hands- we showered with our tears and tainted with our fears.Nothing more is worth building- building this mask on our face with feelings- feelings of pain and pleasure just reeling- reeling the other each time the other- runs away from another- fight we started with feelings.Guilty, is how we feel after we scratch- the masks we worked so hard at- And when the sun shows her face again- we color with a red paint tint- to cover our cheeks with pink hints- the noticeable hearts in our chests shaded as if crimson stems- of a rose once old- now new with new hue to hold-Never once did we treasure- the belly of the “love” we once measured.P.S. This is what makes me feel good. Love from people who know how to, what it is, and why we use such a specific word.
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