I yearn for his lips and his soul and his mind, but I feel like I have lost them in times of strife. This is my fault. Without him, I would be lost. I would be forced to start over again with a heart that would never mend. Baby blue, do not leave me to mourn. Baby blue, stay always.
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Constellations Of The Mind
PoetryThoughts pulled at random from the jumble of mischief I claim to be my mind.
