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My insides turn outward in acknowledgement of your absence. My heart slips out of my chest and down into my gut.
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You know, and I know, just how much we defy.
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And I don’t even like you, but the pain of life without you is biting.
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Maybe she had it wrong all this time and her empty heart could never be filled by his ingenious broken spirit. Maybe this yearning had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with her.
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You disenchant me.
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This is my carefree, this is my freedom–this is MY HAPPY.
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She wanted to write about something other then love. Yet her freethinking pen seemed more adhered to her heart then to her head. A battle she never felt worth fighting.
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Soul mates are muses. The people in your life you despise, disrespect and desire the most.
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Love thy neighbor as thyself. Unless he calls you names. Then do not love him, run in the opposite direction and throw a gerbil at his door.
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You are my heart, my head, my spine-you are the beat thumping through every line, and that’s why I write–it’s the only time we can be side by side.
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I want your most vital organ. I want it to be mine.
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I want your hand without the skin. Bone to bone without the molds. Mouth to mouth, without the porn.
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Dear Heart, please go away.
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Poor Mr. Zum now he was un-fun and had no funs left who wanted to entertain him. What a qerbackle, what an un-fun pickle to be in.
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Growth in love comes from a place of absence, where the imagination is left to it’s own devices and creates you to be much more then reality would ever allow.
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I’m ready, I’m bursting with color I’m highlighed in the best this world has to offer
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I wore your promise on my finger for one year I'll wear your name on my heart til I die Because you were my boy, you were my only boy forever.
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To say “I love you, but….” is to say, “I did not love you at all.
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Our stations in life, our difference of cultures, the pain-laid men who raised us—forbid us to be us. They have brainwashed us. We feel we should believe the polarity between us.
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Every fairytale has a villain. All high quality happy endings involve a black-hearted monster. I just didn't want you to be mine.
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If I had no imagination, I would hate you. But I don’t want to be part of your reality.
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What I knew, adored, and fell for was a fantasy. He did not exist in human terms.
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I am torn open, unabridged, hot and a bit crazy inside. This is the feeling which belongs to me, she has always been mine.
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He's just not that into you if he is a sociopath.