When she smiles, I know that's innocence
wanting me to know the cries to be heard.
Of my own choice, I stick to myself
and indulge in the vices I've always preferred.
It's not her, or the beauty that surrounds her
that I consciously ignore.
It's just me, and the arrogance of my thoughts
that I subconsciously adore.
If she could, maybe she'd look past it all
and read between the lines that I relay.
Maybe I should, search my soul further
and try to live past the highs of the day.
-bRAD
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