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saving leftover shoelacestonight, we remember how to live.
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we live while dying,
and no, it's not cliche.
hanging ourselves with
piano strings, contemplating
what our pastel skin will
look like in a year or two.
today, i am a five year old, with only joy.
i realized my hope blew like dust
in the wind, but i sat still waiting
for you to catch it for me. you
were too busy holding your hands up,
trying to get a glimpse of the
crashing skyline that had so long
eluded you, the sun warped your vision.
the lines blurred and stretched before
your weary eyes, how many more years
did you plan on staring?
i never dreamed
of death until
i was really alive.
tomorrow, we realize life is almost worth living.
i spent a month with you in therapy, for
little more then moral support. you were the
support to my moral, and i was the moral to your
cheap three a.m. thrills. while our blankets stay
cold in the dead of night, we keep warm. staking
our claim on the other's skin. like animals,
we mark our territory.
i saw forever i