R+E

Scratch your fever into the forest.

Parted from the heart she longed for,

settling for cold concrete,

soft but sombre surroundings,

the forest,

now a pessimistic plank will understand.

She will know the truth,

that he was cute,

the moment you met him.

She will know

that you still loved him,

even when his face,

was a distant,

nervous memory,

a tapestry,

of all the things you feared

but fantasied about most,

she will listen,

if you let her.

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Scratch your fever into the forest,

bring your love,

bring your joy,

let her share your secret,

wearing your hidden heartbreak with pride,

decorated in the desires you wept over.

Let her be the bank you swim to,

when you are done drowning in his last words to you.

Scratch your fever into the forest,

and she will tell you that you were never sick in the first place.


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