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fighting with my hair on a blurry saturday morning

less than a week

and november will be gone.


that’s okay, november has

been november. december will

be my lover.


peace is such a funny thing. the

stars have been

yearning for me

since i lost my voice in them.


falling to share love;

all this to share love.


it’s a different kind of love

to half this sadness. to half this burden.

the moon sits at the foot of my bed

and she enjoys the cake with me,

licking her fingers and laughing at

my jokes.


have you felt lonely recently?


the third and the fourth and the

fifth wall crumble in my love for you.


winter has never shone this bright.

i have never shone this bright.

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