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Jan 2015
I miss your arms on my sides,
And you biting my lips at night.

Remember that day on the beach?
We didn't see a ray of sun in that tent.

Your hair always smelt like oranges
And you tasted like peppermint.
I would always play with your ears
While you toyed with my fingers.

You had this funny way of getting me
To open up for you, my heart, my legs.

When I inflicted damage onto us,
You were the patient repairman;
I was the pain for your scream,
And you were the sorrow for my tears.

Somehow we made sense...
Until the day dream ended.
I'd need like, a year to explain all of this.
It's fictitious but isn't. Not at all.
WickedHope
Written by
WickedHope  27/F/Not Boston, Almost Hell
(27/F/Not Boston, Almost Hell)   
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