1952

I walk into an empty room, trying to remember what was here before me.
I vaguely remember the faded yellow walls and the lavender sheets.
Feeling numb, nothing left but dreamy nihilism and nostalgia for a time I never knew.
Living life in solitude isn't too bad when I'm with you.
Dressed in pastel chiffon and flower crowns,
You're in your studded boots and black button down.
Corner cafes, spiral staircases, and polaroids.
Sharing vanilla milkshakes and listening to frank sinatra records.
Take me to the theatre, give me a suburban escape.
I'll wear a pink chanel suit and pearls.
My bones were decaying, my mind was dying.
I found a light that never goes out in your narrow eyes.
The American dream made me come alive.
Make your life a work of art and you will never die.

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