Frozen

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The snow falls lightly, but still threateningly, upon the ground like the tears that have now stained my cheeks.
The white whirlwind of innocence is fleeting, I've regreted this for weeks.

The snowfall becomes cloudy, much like the constant confusion of my mind.
But every so often it settles and I realize what I have ignorantly left behind.

The flakes and tears dry but the cold pain is relentlessly tearing at my heart.
Why didn't the sun come out and melt the ice that so cruelly tore us apart?





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