Ancient hearts aching too soon to die
And the stars we’ve stumbled upon,
only to suffocate beneath pages of glass, stained with tears
To never find me fetal in despair
crying out your name
Trembling in dreams
as your voice silently moves over me
I still breathe whispered images
our lips violently painted
You haunt me in quiet places now
void of your song
Let rage find solace in storms
And I hold onto hope that my fingers will always find themselves curling
the ribs of your cage
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