March 8, 2017
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Hearing your name fall from anyone else’s lips burns my throat dry. The words melt from their tongues as if the thought of you ignited a flame over their memory. I listen as they spatter on of all they know, until their insistent voices run silent. The thought of you sprouts roses in my mind, but along with it, a stem decorated in thorns knowing you crossed someone else’s mind as well. Darling, envy is not green but red, for the blood that pulses through my veins boils at the mention of you from someone who isn’t me.

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