• rodney 10w

    20th September, 2020.
    8:02 p.m.

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    What went
    to come back and vent.

    Winter comes, winter goes.
    You speak in tongues that no one knows.

    Mysterious eyes shows.
    The darkest dents on your bones.

    Well, you look at my smile and smile some more.
    The December's numbers speak of another door;
    Another portal into another house.

    Special places are in your room.
    Nobody knows of how you hurt behind the doors.

    You're sore, broken beneath your door knobs.
    The floor's ice cold by the way you sob.

    Your tears don't fall because they flow within.
    Your nostrils haven't caught any flu,
    They've gone numb and blue.

    So under the weather that it has no clue on who's who.