You see yourself as broken,
Damaged.
Unique in your total grief,
Some mottled and cracked leaf,
Wasted after Autumn,
Spun out on the cold breeze,
Drifting alone.
The beautiful disaster that you think you are,
It's not just you...
But what you do to me.
You are different, - and not.
Just like me,
Perfectly imperfect,
I love your madness.
Stay like you are,
And let us live this out together.
01 Jan 2011
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