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this was supposed to be a love poem
i wait some more
why is my heart so full over vacancy?
i see your eyes, your lips, your teeth, and dimples.
you used to recognize the same in me.
where did you go?
when did you stop caring?
at what time did you start to see me in transparency?
blaming me for your strife, yet you're the one to throw toxic eyes
i'm starting to think this is all becoming a lesson i'm going to later look back on and go "Huh. I really grew from that misery."
i never wanted to equate you to agony but you've given me very little to grab on to without feeling like a guilty, "helpless" girl who "needs to be taken care of."
Peter Robert Hamilton
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