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Dark days, it’s never light
I have the lights on all day
Night is starting to close in at four pm
At least it’s a quiet time of year
Nothing is stirring
Typical November
No sun, no moon, no stars
tears
are the ink
for the pen
a poet uses
to write
- L.M.
I'm confuse
angry and sad.
What will i choose?
The wrong thing,
where i am happy
or the right one,
where I'm unfree.

It's confusing...
I'm really confuse right now. I'm stuck between choosing the right and wrong thing :(
To this day,
your name
still hurts my tongue
but I still say it anyway.
Sometimes I like to
hear my soul
gently tear itself
apart.
She is full of words riddled with scars...
She is full of scars riddled with pain...
But yeah she is still standing...
She is still smiling...
And she is still beautiful just the way she is...
I was already someone
before I knew you

I didn't always remember

when I read my old poems
I understand her

I know

I love her and
I want to meet her once again
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