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I love that I immediately know that you are mine with your belly swollen with my textbooks and throwing up discarded papers. I love the smell of the alcohol from rotting pears that fills my nose when that four month old container falls onto the floor and explodes into a pungent flame. I love not being able to get my worn out book bag into your thin frame and the music my moans and grunts create. I love how you resemble a museum full of old tests and gym shorts and chip bags and chewn up pencils I love how you block my view of the people next to me and how you always make me late.          Please don't change         For God knows I wont make you.
0
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 7:04 PM UTC
Dear Locker
I love that I immediately know that you are mine with your belly swollen with my textbooks and throwing up discarded papers. I love the smell of the alcohol from rotting pears that fills my nose when that four month old container falls onto the floor and explodes into a pungent flame. I love not being able to get my worn out book bag into your thin frame and the music my moans and grunts create. I love how you resemble a museum full of old tests and gym shorts and chip bags and chewn up pencils I love how you block my view of the people next to me and how you always make me late.          Please don't change         For God knows I wont make you.
meagan-ohara
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Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 7:04 PM UTC
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