A pink hand is holding an orange that has been peeled, with its skin still intact. The person's nails are painted neon blue.


Sometimes when I look at an orange,

It reminds me of that time.

And when their faces move into the frame,

I can imagine his last words,

And they sound so much like mine.

So I desperately, desperately wanted him to live

Because somehow, despite my words,

I must have also wanted to live.

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