tributes lined with cries of longing
resurrection from regret
i am blind to your pain
foolishly throw my heart upon your feet
you roll your eyes and mutter
"what a pathetic demonstration of teen angst.
why try to harvest me
when your chances are less than zero?"
i am driftwood
floating the warm river of your veins
the harsh current of your blood
your heart and your kingdom
mere scenery, a passing glance
i'm washed ashore, these regions foreign |
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