Mirrored Eyes.

I don’t know why
you are so very literal.
Oh? Excuse me,
I exaggerate.
You’re consistent.
I can be so explicit.
I slept alone before you.
Look at you,
you’re flawless.
Half the time I feel like fleeing
because beside you I must look like Hell.
I was thriving before
I plucked you with plump fingers
fresh from the web.
and I thrive still,
as an illusion,
of sorts.
You are the perfect sonnet,
a solid straight line,
and it makes me sad
when you tell me you like me
and I know I am nothing
but something lost.


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