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Z Nov 2015
You hit me like a train *and left me on the ******* tracks.
Z Nov 2015
you turned my daydreams into the perfect reality...

...but reality is fatal when you're

*A L O N E
this past month has been so ****** and I just don't know what to do with you anymore, I can't even look at you in the eye without wanting to perish. *******.
  Nov 2015 Z
Rj
(This isn't a poem so don't even bother)
Because here's the deal
I hate it when I want to write about things that scare me, my fears, my past
And I have to be worried that people on here will read it and wonder if I'm okay? Wonder if I need help, feel pity towards me? I don't know if they would
Because I promise you all I am somehow 10x stronger because of the **** that's gone down
And maybe it's not that much ****, but it's a lot to me
A lot to recreate how I think, move, feel, sense
I just want to be able to talk about this and not get those stares like "oh my god this girl must be messed up because of that. She must be depressed or something"
I know what depressed is
I know what cutting is
I know anxiety is
But that's not me
That's a girl who got lost
Very lost.
She isn't and never will be me. Ever.

I hate how I think I'm better off
And I end up ******* myself
I hate how almost every memory of sophomore year is painful.
Some are beautiful pains
And some are dark dark pains.
I hate how I have to filter myself on this site
I hate how I'll write something and end up deleting the whole thing because what's the point of posting something on private of I'm the only one who will read it.
I hate how I can love people so much,
So so much
But I end up hardening up about it
Speechless and slightly ******
I hate how no one will actually read this, or if they do they won't read it slowly
I hate how I'm using hate because I don't think I truly hate anything except sin and evil.
I want sunshine and stupid cliche picnics and board games and skating and everything I say I'll do but never end up doing
And I can't say I love you to anyone enough to express god I love you
And I'm sorry you haven't heard it
And I promise I'll work on it
Z Oct 2015
just take me back to the cold seats of that bus, complemented with your warm neck.


*P L E A S E
C.
  Oct 2015 Z
princessv
Love lasts about seven years. That's how long it takes for the cells of the body to totally replace themselves.
i don't like the idea of a me without you
i don't know how to be okay with this
Z Oct 2015
And just as we finish a cycle once more, you only pull me in further with no turning back.
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