Monday

let her shine something between the lines.



somewhere between the dead roses and my broken mind, i will find time for you and i.
this world isn't what i thought it would be by now, nothing is the same anymore.
sounds that don't sound familiar, and men with pretty ladies that have long legs.
leather vests make a great outfit on christmas eve, but she wore black velvet instead.
nails that are longer than her future, and lips that would stop this world from turning.
the stranger at the door, isn't a stranger anymore.

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