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I. Physics has told me that we are in flux. But where is the phi, without I? Calculus has told me that we are asymptotic. But where is the limit, if I can't be in it? English has told me that we are star-crossed. But where is the light, if I am not right? Chemistry has told me that we are entropic forces. But where is concord, if I am ignored? II. You think you're such a ***** But can't you see that I want your disease? You think you are worth nothing, But can't you see that you're invaluable to me? You think you are alone, But can't you see that you and I have to be? III. On and off, like a light switch. But still you have me wrapped, right around your slender finger. I slipped into euphoria, once upon that lovely night, when we had finally tasted what we were missing. The ruddiness of your lips and the tangled golden mess that you call your hair sizzle quietly in my mind. I have not forgotten. Nor do I want to. I cannot be sated by another. But you find it so easy to eat the hearts of the already ****** You spared mine, though. I wonder why. Each hiccup in my chest alerts me to the monster that rages within. It wants you. It still wants you. Eat it, if you must. I offer it freely. Upon a silver platter.
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Jan 22, 2012
Jan 22, 2012 at 11:14 PM UTC
Romantic Musings of a Teenage Cardiovore
I. Physics has told me that we are in flux. But where is the phi, without I? Calculus has told me that we are asymptotic. But where is the limit, if I can't be in it? English has told me that we are star-crossed. But where is the light, if I am not right? Chemistry has told me that we are entropic forces. But where is concord, if I am ignored? II. You think you're such a ***** But can't you see that I want your disease? You think you are worth nothing, But can't you see that you're invaluable to me? You think you are alone, But can't you see that you and I have to be? III. On and off, like a light switch. But still you have me wrapped, right around your slender finger. I slipped into euphoria, once upon that lovely night, when we had finally tasted what we were missing. The ruddiness of your lips and the tangled golden mess that you call your hair sizzle quietly in my mind. I have not forgotten. Nor do I want to. I cannot be sated by another. But you find it so easy to eat the hearts of the already ****** You spared mine, though. I wonder why. Each hiccup in my chest alerts me to the monster that rages within. It wants you. It still wants you. Eat it, if you must. I offer it freely. Upon a silver platter.
k-david-mitchell
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Jan 22, 2012
Jan 22, 2012 at 11:14 PM UTC
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