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Jan 2015
I've written myself into knots I cannot undo
and late nights have turned into mornings.
Tear stains mark many of my pages,
and my fingers have cramped from use.
I've run out of metaphors and clever rhymes,
synonyms, and similes,
because no matter how I start these lines,
I always end with you and me.
Written by
20something  23/F
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