Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Let's ride the teacups

She breaks like china teacups.
So fragile and beautifully scented
Like a midnight lullaby.
She graces rage like scarlet feathers
Falling vehemently
With her crooked indigo halo
And faulty winter heartache weighing
Heavily upon her mind.
Sucked into a gray eternity
Made by illusion's ashes,
I get to watch her decayed nostalgia
Fall apart, piece by piece into an
Ink stained well, the love memories
Casting bitter shadows upon her wrenching heart.


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Let`s ride the teacups

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