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s-m-schaefer
s-m-schaefer
F I do not call myself a poet, for what I write is not art.
men ain't **** she says to me HE isn't **** i agree i miss him i love him i hate him she whines he's toxic he's dangerous he's unworthy i say all the time i know she responds with an aching heart so why can't i seem to let go if all he does is tear me apart? because HE is your normal, source of comfort, embodiment of love he taught you the ways of living with venom and your brain knows he's bad but your heart's made of denim though he's made those rips HE plays the victim and your pretty little face, i answer with disgrace, believed the pretty little lies that spilled out of him.
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Dec 2, 2019
Dec 2, 2019 at 9:04 AM UTC
out of my ***
oh no here it comes again feelings of distress caused by my mess i should,ve known better than to make a new beginning to a story i knew would end
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Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 5:16 PM UTC
same old
sometimes i wonder' when all,s gone under and all I hear is thunder' is there someone' somewhere that,s a heart refunder¿
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Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 10:48 AM UTC
der