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Fragmented Self who wanders through life like a dreamer and wades through the river of dreams as though it were the only truth left in this world
Aching
I relive the passion I had for him-
that animal attraction,
his kisses and touch.
My god,
I breathe slow.
I wish things had not died.
I wish you didn't smoke weed
or think less of me.
If you had waited,
just a little longer,
you would have been my first.

I loved you,
in all my misery.
You didn't support me
or try to get to know me.
But you were romantic
and your body
(breathe slow)
I'll remember our desire.
We had a spark,
physical and hot.

In my aching heart,
I'm remembering you.
You referred me to Blood on the Dancefloor.
I tried to open up to you.
I even let you touch me,
when my skin was peeling
and I felt like rotting.
You burned me when you left me.
I wanted you so intensely.
I'll remember you.

I am going to find someone better.





 
 
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