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I have to stop.
All this has to stop.
Writing about  you, about what I feel for you.
That doesn't help.
I have to forget you.
You are my worst almost.

I have to move on.
We were nothing anyway huh.
Everything was in my head, right.
Get out of my head, my heart and my soul.
I will not write about you anymore.
O.P
 Nov 2015 Forgotten Heart
muteD
Sometimes
The Girl
I See
In The Mirror,
Makes Me
Happy.

Sometimes
I Swear I
Don't Even
Recognize Her
That Girl.


Sometimes
I Feel Wise.

And Sometimes
I Don't.


Sometimes
I'm Actually
Proud
To Be Who
I Am.

Sometimes
I Feel
Ashamed
And Disgusted
With Myself.


Sometimes
I Love Every
Little
Insignificant
Detail About
Me.

Sometimes
I Pick Apart Myself.
I Look At All
My Flaws,
And I Think
About The Ways
I'd Like To Change.


Sometimes,
I Actually
Love Myself.*

But,
Most Times
I Don't.
-.-
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