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by
Eliot
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the existential romanticist
Poems
May 2014
11:58pm
You wanna know what hurts me more than crying myself to sleep
because I think I'll never be good enough?
Knowing that when he talks he says
no one
loves him, when I
have told him repeatedly that I do.
But maybe he's right -- after all, I'd consider myself no one, too.
#love
Written by
the existential romanticist
F/amongst the stars
(F/amongst the stars)
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