antipoetic
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sad eyes, bad guys, mouth full of white lies.


Notes

You're seventeen, barely making it and you don't believe in love. He's a million light years apart because you’re grounded by dirt and reality. He'll teach you magic in tales of broken spells that'll have your eyes clouded, counting stars. You'll fall, so broken, young and insisting you trip when he catches you. You stop drawing smoke rings up the sky when you catch a pair twinkling back at you and that's when you know he's the one that starts the smile that reaches up your cheeks.


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