They built a cell and never molded a key for this feeling in my chest. Locked up behind baby blues, blood red from blank stares. You are the color wheel.
It's 1 in the morning, and almost sunrise next to you. Please dust off, and place away this antique heart. Take me down every now and then... just like a snapshot memory. I'm only proud to have been on your shelf.
Passport veins. Mederma for the scars, and whiskey for the pain. Wristbands from here on out. Meet me in Chicago. We are October.
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