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Dec 2013
I would tell you I can't go to bed because
hell is loving you in my sleep and
waking up alone
and that i'd rather never sleep again
than to live through that

I would tell you that every time I open my mouth
I want you to shut it
with yours

I would tell you that you have
the kind of glance that could crack
a ribcage
and make it feel
like heaven

And I know it sounds clichΓ© but
your breath is the water that floods
into the roots of my stomach and grows
the daisies being kissed
back into you

If I had a lover I would call these
nauseating churns
"butterflies"

If I had a lover I would think of this
infection in my head
as "you're the one I can't live without"

If I had a lover I would tell you
being lovesick
doesn't actually make me sick

And if I had a lover
I would need to learn not to **** myself
in the process
wounded words
Written by
wounded words  Seattle
(Seattle)   
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