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Bittersweet? No, just bitter, the taste of your tongue. Words you can’t have back, so they linger.
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I hate you. I hate you like the girl who hates cake because it makes her fat and she can’t stop eating it.
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You're too big for another heart beat, unable to sync with my capricious heart beating.
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Love is not of value when this superficial contract must be drawn up, representing the two worlds that enclose us.
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You'll never like me, but you'll always love me.
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....hurts not just the heart, but every part.
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Some girls need men to take them places. Others just click their heels, spread their own wings, and fly.
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I won’t let you have it. I won’t give you this moment. I won’t let you fill up this valuable organ...I own it. I won’t do it. I can’t think, I won’t think about it.
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Writer? A complimentary term to conceal one’s insanities.
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I wear my heart on my blog.
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You’ll lie again, you’ll do it again. Friends, not friends, friends, not friends, I’m on your dime, I’m on your time, and I don’t exist where there is a YOU.
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She’s hanging free, at liberty.
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I had hoped to be disliked by most, not by way of rebellion, but by way of excellence, disdain for the habitual, and the common man’s inability to grasp this. The act of being scorned? I saw it as a victory, my irreverent boast against this world which could never fully quench me.
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If I wasn't so phenomenal. I would go back to you.
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Time to get a go on this drop-dead-gorgeous morning.
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He brought out the worst in me, and was the best thing that ever happened to me.
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He's just not that into you, if he doesn't have a heart.
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I near felt bad he choose to be so evil. I am a forgiving woman, but my pen... oh my wicked wicked hormonal she-pen.
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...but fame didn’t suit you, you compromised, a renegade rebel, you gave me your eyes.
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I’ll dream up a world where you never existed. A world you could never live in. I’ll live there without you.
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My boy of steel. My man of honor. My perfect friend. My timeless soldier.
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Sometimes you want to say, “I love you, but…” Yet the “but” takes away the ‘I love you’. In love their are no ‘buts’ or ‘if’s’ or ‘when’. It’s just there, and always. No beginning, no end. It’s the condition – less state of the heart. Not a feeling that comes and goes at the whim of the emotions. It is there in our heart, a part of our heart…eventually grafting itself into each limb and cell of our bodies. Love changes our brain, the way we move and talk. Love lives in our spirit and graces us with its presence each day, until death.
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What is love, if not the abandonment of all sanity, all dignity?
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All the risks have been taken. Allowing me room to fly.