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Oct 2014
So, tell me boy with the cerulean eyes, do you remember our first kiss? You stained my mouth with a sunset. You left your name on the roof of my mouth and I haven’t shut up about you since. You left me sitting alone in the library. You left me picking dandelions. Nobody told me dandelions aren’t a flower. Nobody ever told me that maybe you didn’t love me. I just thought, “how could someone kiss like that and not be in love with me?” But you didn’t love me, I know that for sure. It hurts to leave someone you love, even if it’s just for a day, it aches to be without them. Now I’m stuck with your sunset in my mouth and any boy after you who thinks they want to kiss me will taste your name and vanilla. I think you should apologize to the next boy who thinks he wants to get to know me. He doesn’t. He doesn’t. He doesn’t. Getting to know me means getting to know you. God, I wanted to love you so badly. I wanted to kiss the corners of your mouth and listen to all your secrets. I hate you for ******* that up. I hate you for giving me the worst case of writers block known to man. I hate you for being my muse. I hate you for kissing me so hard that I thought the trees were talking. I loved you so much and now it’s not the same and I hate you for making me question my love. I hate that you felt the need to raise your voice to tell me you didn’t love me anymore. As if I needed to be hurt anymore. I love you only always. And I think that’s the worst part, dandelion boy.
naivemoon
Written by
naivemoon  Maine
(Maine)   
655
   Glass, medha, Liana Thompson and m
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