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The Mountain

theres a blanket of ash
where my covers used to be
i remember you over my bed
looking down at my nakedness
layered in the falling debris
of a million cigarettes
smoked while we contemplated
pita chips and lesser beings
while you let me kiss you
down there
we talked about the mountains
the mountains
that rain fire
but they are cold
and littered with snowy carcasses
of the final battle
i think i’m an angel
and you were my devil
tempting me in eden
when i couldn’t say no
but maybe you loved me
which is why
you spread this soot
to keep me warm
while the war of heaven raged
we lost the good fight
you and i
we the lovers
who could never be
but somewhere
theres a mountain
with our names on it

About deadendemily

Emily lives in Austin, TX. She has a minor in chaos and a major in spray paint. She likes Vincent Price and ABBA. She enjoys being covered in fake blood and writing horror stories. Most of the time she just hopes that her cat is not plotting to murder her, her cat being a minion of Satan and all. They would never suspect the cat.

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