Jane.
My heartbeat races
like nothing else
matters in this space
as I walk on clouds.
Then it stops for a minute
and it tries again.
The clouds beneath my feet,
they just start to drain.
and it rains from my eyes
when the pain’s on a high.
Well I painted a sky,
crossed my heart and hoped to die.
Well I painted a sky,
that was home to you and I
but humans only live in the sky
when I close my eyes.
love your poem!
Hello!
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Maybe you can use some cake?
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