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#lingeringlove
i’m yours. that’s the saddest part— belonging without being chosen. i look for comfort where the hurt was born, like returning to a house that no longer knows my name. you were my home. now i knock, and wait, and wonder when love started needing permission. i don’t ask for love anymore. i ask for space that doesn’t feel like abandonment. still, i stay— not because it’s safe, but because leaving hurts in a way i already understand.
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Dec 14, 2025
Dec 14, 2025 at 10:48 AM UTC
permission
Missing names in my letterbox— but mostly yours. And I have no right to claim it, no reason to expect your name to arrive again. I try to write it out— all that it was between us. A love so bizarre, so hard to define, yet somehow… _energizing._ But I want to cut the ties my eyes have to their tiredness— but I’m still oddly entangled in the thought of falling asleep to the memory of you. _Tired! Tired!_ But no rest compares to you, or the rest I see. And maybe— just maybe— the measure I hold love to now is too tight, too closed, to give anything new even a chance.
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Jun 21, 2025
Jun 21, 2025 at 2:48 PM UTC
Tired of Remembering
What is a love turned into ashes – Burnt by the flames of forgotten passions Actions are so passive; Our stories still left written out In captions My feelings for you are still massive, Despite being inactive – So when my lips spell out your name, I start to fall in love, tasting that old Bittersweet magic And it’s truly so wicked, tragic By feeling so fickle now – But I happily accept all That happened…
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Jun 12, 2025
Jun 12, 2025 at 2:49 AM UTC
Ashes of Us