Angela

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i saw the beauty of the scar
resting on epidermis of your synthetic skin
the scent of your dress and lingerie
reminiscences coffees' aroma in a cold morning
a naked angel in front of me
no one believed me
her beautiful feet were inches away from the wooden floor
i shout at your neighbour's door
knocking louder than gunshots
she's spinning like a ballerina figurine
in an old music box with a nostalgic trance
playing a saccharine tune
its gramophone elegance
forfeited happiness replaced with television static
i should have listened when you told me you're sick
this reeks your bitter emotion
humanly imperfect perfection
i watched you fly with bruised wings
a picture frame in the ceiling
leaving me for your dreams
hoping that you would explode
your pieces coming back to me
and I will put them back together
the way I wanted you to be
i couldn't save your soul the way you did to me
not with sex to fill in the discarded love you never received
and make mistakes that mirrors us
or cigarette curls that will linger in ashen lungs
cuddling behind semen-stained sheets
wondering if we'll stay empty for the rest of our lives
then we'll just jump off a cliff and together die
ah, so pretty
and hoped no one will find us rot
in the middle of the sea
slowly sinking like the sunset we're trying to chase
our hands entwined and wanting to escape this place
bored of the way life pluck each one of us its way
you're just tired of this hole in your chest
vomiting your heart and swallowing it
tongues that were afraid to say it
they would understand, they might
locked inside your bedroom all alone
you took your life in the middle of that night
selfishly, i'm happy that you're dead

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