Outskirts Of My Mind

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I drew a portrait of you,

Put two x's where your eyes should be.

Deceased, gone, like how a leaf falls from a tree.

Its brown shade blends in with the earth.


See, I only noticed you when you were green.

Gracefully hanging onto that tree.

Every fiber of yourself,

when you were good enough to me, I could cling to you.


Then fall came and your leaves shifted to a crimson orange,

A criminal offense.

I chose not to indulge in crimson ways and I refuse to let my pride get in the way.


When everything is said and done,

My eyes turn away from what needs to be, and I let out a sigh.

The orange turns brown, and you're forgotten.

Left with the mud of the earth.

Left with the outskirts of my mind.

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