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𝐼 𝑈𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑇𝑜 𝐵𝑒 𝐴 𝑃𝑜𝑒𝑚
I'm jealous of the flowers drenching in rain at late night
And how they silently wither.
I was once a paper lantern meant for the sky,
But on an October night, that fire finally died.

The days when it's not me in the mirror,
I hold hands with the moon and we dance together.
Black and white...