As oceans of acidic
Nostalgia lap my fingertips
Veins held at knifepoint
And my left eyelid
Won't stop flicking at dust specks
Coldly parting lips
I hear you speak
I see you breathe
I feel your kiss
Don't talk to me of my departure
When you're already so
Far away
Like those adolescent games
I'll do all I can to appease
The popular opinion
But in vain
Alas
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