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it was not beautiful, the way he broke my heart. it was not gentle, or lovely, or romantic. it was a monday morning screaming battle, it was the feeling of words jabbing into my soul. he left without a goodbye, I spewed hate without remorse. it was not beautiful, loving him. I tore down my body for a sake of well-being I never really established. I left home and never came back. he poured the gasoline, laughed as I lit the match, "baby, keep me warm."
0
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 1:19 PM UTC
the verge of eighteen
it was not beautiful, the way he broke my heart. it was not gentle, or lovely, or romantic. it was a monday morning screaming battle, it was the feeling of words jabbing into my soul. he left without a goodbye, I spewed hate without remorse. it was not beautiful, loving him. I tore down my body for a sake of well-being I never really established. I left home and never came back. he poured the gasoline, laughed as I lit the match, "baby, keep me warm."
md
Written by
American
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 1:19 PM UTC
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