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Literature Text
i would rather wait in agony by the frosted pane of my front door for a letter in your chicken-scratch script
than be trapped in the confines of my head, biding the too-long hours for a text
or a call;
at least, then,
i might pretend the mail was delayed
than be trapped in the confines of my head, biding the too-long hours for a text
or a call;
at least, then,
i might pretend the mail was delayed
Literature
Why do I care when she doesn't talk to me?
Why do I care when she doesn't talk to me? It's not like it matters, it's not like it's hurting me...
Well, no, maybe that isn't true. It is hurting me. Why does it hurt me? It shouldn't matter that she isn't talking to me. It's not a big deal. It's not like she's ignoring me...
What if she's ignoring me? Is she ignoring me? She tells me she's busy. I believe her I really do, but there's always this part of me that tells me I'm just annoying. Why would someone want to talk to me? I'm not good enough...
I'm never good enough. I push myself, put so much pressure on myself. People tell me I'm good at things, but I can't see it. I can't belie
Literature
Good Night
it started with “good night”
and the way you stopped saying it
and I told myself it was because
you were too tired
too weary
too worn
and I made it okay
then I stopped being your “good morning”
and everyone else saw you first
and I told myself it was because
you were too busy
too popular
too distracted
and I made it okay
now it ends with “good bye”
and it's not a cry for attention or a ploy for your love
you can tell yourself it's because
I'm too needy
too jealous
too much
but I gotta make it, okay?
Literature
Party for one.
Three drinks deep, soft haze seeps,
corners of my vision like moonlit streets,
I don't wanna sleep in dirty sheets,
but when the laundry's done somtimes history repeats,
and I'm black and blue, persona retreats,
just another jigsaw no one completes,
and i want to love you, want to hold you,
before you want to leave.
Six drinks gone, the show goes on,
and I'm telling you again that you're the one,
call me a slut and its all just a con,
you can cut me and brand me if thats what you want,
coz I know I'll stand where once new love shone,
and hold you tomorrow with face tired and drawn,
coz I want to love you, want to hold you,
before the conclus
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i know ur busy but i miss you
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