He filled my eyes with stars, placing petals of crimson rose in my heart, and then he struck a match across my cheeks. Filled with beauty, eyed with envy, and built with solemn care. I take my paces across the surface of a smooth, polished, icy glass pane.
Entrapped by my own visage, I stand watching myself. Then, it happened; the sand falling against me.
The blinking star of my irises faded, not even a spark alive, the petals in my heart rotting, and the match that flickered behind my cheeks gave a hiss of death.
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