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She's like the essence of a coral rose
a latent bloomer with a heart of gold
And when she speaks to me in prose
deep inside, she opens doors of old

Rosy cheeked and full of vitality
a thriving blush in my garden of love
Infused with life and immortality
she's been sent from up above

A rose by any name will always be so neat  
like cupid wings when flown across the sky
Filled with ample beauty she's replete
soft and mellow, like a gentle sigh  

She's the perfume of my scented days,  
perfect and valuable in every way.
I don’t blame you.
Love can’t be forced to bloom.
But I wish you had stayed,
just once,
long enough to notice
how much of me was yours.
 Feb 6 Melanie Munoz
Ari
It hurts,
it hurts so,
so much
knowing
that I'm
not the kind of girl
people write songs about
or think about,
care about
or fall for..
Cause I'm too noisy
but also too quiet.
cause I'm not gentle
and not that kind
and I'm not gorgeous
or amazingly talented
and smart.

Will I ever find love..?
😭 Just needed to get my feelings out...
Oh, it’s
so “selfish”
to say what
my true feelings
were to you?

“I love you.”

The most
offensive
sentence
I’ll ever say
in this room—

“I need you.”
please i need an out

                                         i need out please
    
                    i need out
  

                                                               ­        i need

                                                   o

                                                   u

                                                   t


i
   m

                                   S
                                      U
                       ­             f
                                   F
                                          o
                   ­               c
                                         A
                                     t
                                   I
                                       N
                                    g
its getting worse
 Feb 4 Melanie Munoz
dee
I don't want to die
I just need something to make me feel alive.
what I think of with every attempting thought.
Can we ever be friends?
Or is our weird collection
Of unfinished business
Far beyond repair?
Could a thing so broken somehow work?
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