Flowers blooming under my hands. Your face is blurred through the way you think of me. You were always a sea, by the way I came too late. Sometimes I feel dizzy and lied to. Sometimes you feel lied to. If we are deceived again, I just won't be able to believe it. The slit in my hand bleeds across yours, and I wonder: Are we related? Your messed-up life shakes me, and you tell me it's okay. Maybe I'll see you another day. It's just the weight of the world. I swallow down the way I miss you and fade away.
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