Love is dull;
blind as the brick
in my crumbling walls.
Your hair black;
black as the night,
pale skin and hazel eyes
sends comfort
down my tingling spine.
And I would waste my lupine plight
for you to find a way
to see the beauty in every day.
Our concious attempts
to find the good in repentance
leaves blank slates
and reciprocated hate
to a pallet that should not relate.
Easing in and out
of a violence that shouts
when all we want is the peace;
a peace that keeps us from this world
so bold and misunderstood,
and in the midst of sadness
grasp a piece
that silences us from the madness.
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