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Jun 2015
Perhaps to you i was empty.
Maybe for some time i was.
But, i never asked you to pour compliments into me like lemonade and
i never asked you to hold me while i imploded upon myself,
or watch as i wrote silver stories on my skin.
Maybe to you love means killing yourself to keep someone alive,
but i would've preferred dying together instead of living at your expense.
how do i tell you?
Alexandria
Written by
Alexandria  Toronto
(Toronto)   
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