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"How do you keep so unattatched?"*

What do you mean?
I hear this question so much.
I guess you just dont see.

I'm not holding back
Or doing anything
I just don't know how
To hold onto anything

I never had a home
Or any long term friends
Letting go is manditory
Everything ends

This isn't a good thing
I don't know how to love
Don't try to be me
It hurts. It's numb

I'd rather be attatched
Sown at the hip
Helplessly heartbroken
Longing for your lips

Instead i despise you
For latching on so tight
I just want to run
I know that isn't right

So don't ask me that again
There's no special trick
If i could love i would
If only i could stick
An explanation
 Jan 2015 Hopeless Wonderland
AJ
Touch me all over, let your fingertips gently brush over my skin, making parts of me come alive I never knew was possible.
Breathe in my scent, with your lips pressed against my neck, spreading a spark of electricity through me so vibrant I inhale sharply.
Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, until your name is escaping my mouth and the taste of it is burned onto my tongue, with no want of ever leaving.
I don't believe in anything more than a rare Friday spent with a temporary boy
Goodnight, Bug*                                  
                                   *Sweet dreams, Bee

Have all my love                                  
                                   *And dream for me
Based off of a thing that happened c:
She sat in a room all alone,
admiring the stars that laid out in display.
They shone like diamonds on a crystal throne,
still remembering them though they vanished by day.

Since there was only a window and one door,
and since the door was locked by key,
she always wanted to see more
and was never able to leave.

Thinking those stars were the only friends she had,
a tear rolled down her cheek.
She used to speak to them when things were going bad,
yet she never felt strong and remained weak.

Even though she knew that they would never open again,
she sealed her eyes shut as she decided to keep them that way.
Knowing she couldn’t go back every now and then,
her vision grew black and and a dark shade of grey.

Those stars out she listened to were little voices,
directing her, telling her what to do.
For that they had never given her many choices,
but to slash her veins all the way through.

Maybe her room wasn’t a plain room with door quite shut,
or just a room where in the corner, she was curled.
It was her own little place in which she locked herself up,
only to avoid messed-up society and the world.
the words of a stranger
a hundred realisations
a mixture of salt and water
enough to fill a bowl and a half
the words of another stranger
a cosmic shift
and an inscrutable force of will
is all it took
and some more
for her to pick herself back up
and ride on
and out of the labyrinth.
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