You are calm and reposed, let your beauty unfold.
Pale  white like the skin stretched over your bones.
Spring keeps you  ever so close, secondhand smokes.
So fragile and hurt, standing  trial for someone's else sins.
Holding onto yourself, the best  you can.
You are the smell before the rain.
You are the  blood in my vein.
If it makes you less sad, I will die by  your hands.
O hope then you will find who you are.
And  know who I was.

Author: Viet Nguyen

I thought what I had do was, I had pretend I was one of those Deaf Mutes

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