He was beautiful. The beaten kind. Lucifer, a fallen star. With scraped up knees and broken wings.
The one with a pretty face. But sad eyes. Disenchanted, a sin. With scraped up knees and broken wings.
Nobody loves him. But I do.
Swept up stardust ashes. Saw him as innocent. One day I looked at those sad eyes. Turns out they were also mine.
We healed each others lives.
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