poetry love
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It's you again.
You keep consuming my thoughts.
Leave me alone!
You keep bringing guilt back into my conscience.
Everywhere I go, I envision you.
Your imperfections I viewed as perfections
The rose tightly held in my hands. the stars shining in your eyes. Your kind assistance gives my life a meaning.
I sit on a windowsill, cup in hand.
The cup is attached to a four hundred mile-long string
that if its path was traced would lead to your hands,
