clementines

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(nov 25)

you look at school friends with want burning in your eyes and how? how can you convey such desire that easily for someone that you call only a friend? and can you teach me how? i want to learn from you instead of those two faced bloodless girls on the sidewalks near the street that separates us. i never got why they disliked me so much.

paper shoes touch paper sidewalks and your mountain dew rivers would make me slip and fall on the way to school. homemade kites went flying by past my house when i arrived home and i've wondered this for so long but, how does your eyes do that little gleam that i've always adored behind my own burning pupils? i cheated my way to the shallow seas before you because i never thought i'd have a chance. oh was i wrong, you were a terribly awful swimmer. my palms are filled with smeared chapstick from the red lady next door, she always comes by to give us a few treats when she hears our tummy rumble out of spiteful love for our desired ones.

watch me die in french because i've learned some latin over the years but i still can't figure out why your music notes are written in spanish. can you start singing your tunes instead of humming them? i want to hear you so i can kiss your breathing words with my own melodic tunes.

i've never wanted a generation to end this badly but from how i see it, we're liquified millennials standing on an angsty city as clementine falls on our heads, making us forget our reason to live. although, i don't think i've forgotten, there's just not much on the list of my things-to-live-for when i haven't gotten through to you.

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