Out of the misery you paint hard across my wrist
The longing of mild distraction blinded the eyes of every butterflies
They flew away abruptly tearing up the memory
Between long hours of wrapping back my skin and bones
Your cold hard fingers felt insignificant
Never been enough to pull out goodbyes and left it blunt
There you are standing in the crossroad where I left you to die; being effortlessly calm
While holding a bottle of my falling tears in the cup of your palm
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