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We fell in love by chance,
We stay in love by choice.
We hug
We kiss
We cuddle
In bed

We were just friends
We made out
To him
We were having ***
To me
We were making love
I was his friends with benefits
But he was my lover
These words are for me,
For I'm the one who's hurting,
I'm just healing myself.
I often wonder why we can't understand other's poems sometimes, but deep down it is the one who writes it knows the value of it.
Recycled conversations
won't ever save the world.
We need to stop recycling
and use more one-use words.
Recycled conversations utilise the same anecdotes and fail to really engage.  One-use words are purpose built for each conversation.  Prompted by Will Demou in conversation.
i am barely breathing
   tell me this is not my destination
   i just want to ask you something—

is this where i truly belong?
  i am trying! oh god, yes, i am!
  when did it all go wrong?

all the lies i fed myself—it is becoming real
   i have always known it
   i was never meant to heal
no such thing as a crybaby im doing fine guys
mythic ether
consciousness creator
dreams theatre
Proud to serve
such empty words
The war machine
is quite absurd
No glory of service
as innocents dies
Sign over your soul
on dotted lines.
Pledge allegiance
close your mind
Thank you for your service
But we must warn you..
Don’t you dare step out of line.
Traveler 🧳 Tim
Me
It hurts me to tell them lies
To tell them "I'm fine" when i'm not
  To fake a smile and a laugh  
   To look them dead in the eyes    
    And have them believe me      

It also hurts me to tell them the truth
To watch them cry
  For them to ask and ponder what they did wrong  
   To see the sadness in their eyes    
    To know that it's my fault      

Because it is ... My fault
   I did this  
      I created this      
         Me ... I did it
~ G.P.O
His bashful and gentle smile devoured me
All i can feel is his warmth spreading it's self against the cold air
I try to stop myself from smiling low key
but I lose control slowly and can't bare to look away but stare
the lights of a cop car gave me hope
I wanted them to take me away
from the pain
and tears
home was no longer home
it was a prison
mom and dad were guards
dad did nasty things to me
I kept silent
mama threw things
and slammed me against cupboards
she was unaware of dads behaviors
I blamed my body
if only I was unhealthy
sloppily so...
then maybe he would have left me alone
mama hated me
I saw it in her eyes
before she erupted and came down on me
but there was always a calmness before the storm
bipolar
it seemed
laughter and praise
rarely so
but still there
sometimes I wish I knew my real parents
but they weren't much better
******* lovers
I knew though
if I waited my sentence I'd be out free
one day
someday
I'd run free
I survived
I endured
and now I'm free
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