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if you ask us what

happiness

is

we will toss our hair

and give an answer

as lyrical as our laughter

 

we are atlas

each one of us

holding our own skies forever high

(but in our strength

we always forget

how we never seem to face the light)

 

the twinkles in our words are saccharine sweet.

the warmth in our hearts never burning deep.

the embers in our eyes die out when we

turn back, and me stares back at me.

 

and when the day ends

we all go back

solitary figures on terrace tops –

looking up

to a sky thats never blue

to stars that never shine

to eyes that never smile

 

so we shed our golden tears

sheltered within our four cold walls

hoping to never be found

hoping we’re never let out

 

but its okay, we say

everything’ll be alright

we have nothing to lose

except our faux life.

 

 

x

ritoma

ritoma

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