Untitled 27
The moon loves that old adage
that life exists in black and white
I can see it in his crossword smile
Love doesn’t always heal
Death doesn’t always kill
Are you my poison or my savior
His passion for the extremes can hurt
thinking that life’s like a negative
that black and white don’t bleed together
And to him the heart is just an organ
but I know it can break and be haunted too
Whilst drowning in all his grey.
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