Now the shelves are empty
Dust underneath the feelings
Home feels empty like a coffin
Deteriorating the seeds of now
The voices in the winds uttered,
The mirror is not always reflective
And love is not a bandage
The heart chooses what it wants
Buttoned to the rhythm of self
Drowning the empty in the sea
And only the heavens know
And only the heavens know
The things love lets us do.
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