Sad Labels:
acceptance
,
hyperbole
adjacent autonomies smuggle the wind. as the distance settles under foot.
the poise of rain. as it drowns us.
the brutal epiphanies that tell us. in split lips and burnt skin.
we're candy. ripe with sweet and sour. melting too close to the heat.
we're milk. spilt. souring in our arrogance.
weather teaching. the sudden storms. the graceful lost. bridges trembling under the weight of our want.
patient dolls. wooden limbs. the curious dance of spoiled victims.
we don't run. still it chases us. it doesn't rain. still we're drenched.
the colors spent. the windows broken. we're cut, but there is no blood.
the poise of rain. as it drowns us.
the brutal epiphanies that tell us. in split lips and burnt skin.
we're candy. ripe with sweet and sour. melting too close to the heat.
we're milk. spilt. souring in our arrogance.
weather teaching. the sudden storms. the graceful lost. bridges trembling under the weight of our want.
patient dolls. wooden limbs. the curious dance of spoiled victims.
we don't run. still it chases us. it doesn't rain. still we're drenched.
the colors spent. the windows broken. we're cut, but there is no blood.
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