SCHIZOPHRENIC (2)

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say goodbye, goddess.
the cut glass hangings of my mind
won't tint your aura any brighter than the night.

winter hills beckon.
they beckon silhouettes that gallivant through
dewy meadows.
silhouettes like you, not i.

for i'm opaque--
not just a charred outline
made to glide through frail minds.

you're the goddess on a pale summer night.
with pearl eyes
and winter feet,
springing forth with shambolic grace.
you're the auburn venation crumpling
autumn leaves.

sweet maiden, i digress.

suffice it to say,
you aren't real.
but oh, how i wish you were.
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