Pessoa
Room For Breathing
i heard a dying soundwhen i walked into the roomand your breath was shallower than mine.i could not tell if you were only sleepingbecause we're not used to dying around here.so sing, lark, sing of signs that i know, pleaseoh please.or i will keep you here, pinned to the wallwings splayed, so i can say we are safe,and know that we are not.
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