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Dec 2013
I don't have the guts to tell you
that I miss you
so I'll write a poem comparing
the way your lips were cracked
to the sidewalk in front of my childhood home
the first time I kissed you and how
I held your hand a little too tight
when you told me you had to go.
Kay Reed
Written by
Kay Reed  F/ohio
(F/ohio)   
568
   cynthia, Makenzie D and meg
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