underneath/ over it

a few days have made me older

i don’t recognise this place

and the nights keep getting colder

i do not remember your face

stories of how it used to be are told

while we lie cold on the grass bleeding

they take time to process how it goes

the pretenders just watch seething

lets give it a shot one more time

lets forget all the rest at the haven

maybe this time i get to call you mine

no need to quote the raven

your dreams are a lie

their words a facade

i am yours till i die

pulling it off with panache

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