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To the night terrors To the things that speak without voices To that which I am protected from only by waking confusion, I know your faces, but not your names
We are all going nowhere from nowhere Snow outlined the branches of the trees that shattered the sky Fragmented clouds January come and gone
I do not wear lavender bruises of pain; blue laces my skin, reminiscent of the rain.
Lavender is the bliss in your musical movements, captured by so few. Distinct you stand confined in a chaotic world, relief like no one knew. Lavender is your touch of delicacy,
Come hither my cats, let me sing you a lullaby. Sleep in my arms, lay in the bed of lavender. Listen to the song of sleep, and let it linger in your ears. The night has come
To a Lavender named Lucy Oh my pretty, fresh, young yet lovely and precious Lavender I have no creativity as thee To write in papers of colour