I hate how much I'm in love with you. I hope you die. Your ignorance is
fascinating, your intolerance is aggravating. When will the horse you're on
knock you off? Stories are written about true love, and songs are written about
broken hearts. What if love is an illusion? And all that I seem to feel is simply a
rush of hormones and endorphins? What if this broken heart is really just a
symptom of withrawal from a substance so strong ten minutes of exposure is
enough to knock me on my a**? What if all I need to make me happy for
eternity, is You?
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Questions of The Heart
Why do I feel the way I do? I don't know, I do what I can to get by, without feeling too much of one way or the other... but when things get out of hand, this is where I write it...
-Dashing-in-Deliverance-
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