A moment.

It's like I've slipped into a dream,

the rich smell of roses,

the tinted shattered glass from above,

my reflection looks unfamiliar.

Is this me? Is this really my life?

You wanted to fit. 

You played your part. 

This doesn't matter anymore...it still hurts.

We are but a moment. 

Take and give.

Come and go. 

This poem is about: 


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