~ e p i t a p h ~
the boulevard is screaming neon silence / i rush past memories through dim arcades / where my father has been the only man i've loved / where my mother has me enveloped in her arms / the mangoes are yellow and ripe / the sun shines fierce bright in summers of love / and i am not running away from home / but i am, and isn't it a tragedy that should be written down? / doesn't it a deserve an epitaph of its own? / so i am writing it down now / will you make an epitaph out of it when i'm no more? ~
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