Your eyes are empty and tired
Against the gray skies,
The misting rain is my
Hurt and broken, ruined passions
I laid down in the overflowing
Gutter of your love, your eyes were
Wet grass and summer oak,
I'll admit you might have been right
But only if you apologize
For pouring me out and
Crushing my soul with your
Ivory fingers and callous tongue
So why show up here?
Your white nose bridge is
A ghost's profile view,
Haunting me with cold.
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