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Sarah K Nov 2014
I love the day time silly one liners
I love the late night heart wrenchers
I love the early-late night truths that pour out of me
I love the bursts of inspiration out of nowhere
The things that I have to write down RIGHT NOW or I’ll forget them
I love the way my pen seems to glide across the paper
I love the ink blotches later found on my fingers
Like little trails of words that have now stained those lines
I love the sloppy, thought out, nicely written, typed, tear drop stained, words
I love the blatant obviousness and I love the hidden meanings
I love the suspense, sadness, furiosity, joy, excitement, heartwarming, celebration
That I can create with just this little pen and my emotions
I love the way my brain doesn’t over think
I love how my mind moves even faster than my hand can write
I love the freedom writing gives you and I love the shackles it creates
This is yours and only yours, no givesies backsies
I love the way my writing is me, it’s you, it’s someone who doesn’t exist It’s the little girl who’s scared of the thunder at night, and the woman who don’t need no man in her life
It’s hopeless, it’s depressed, its shaky anxiety struck, its lifeless, its cold, its bawling right there on the paper
Tears do not need to be seen to be heard
From the bottom of my soul
I love to write.
Everyone has a favorite ex.



Everyone is the one who got away. I'm broken as all ****. I don't know how to let go. I keep starting new problems. I'm at my very core exactly the ***** my father was and accused me of being. I wish I wasn't this way

I wish
I wasn't
This way


But I've written more poems about you than anyone I've ever known. I crave you more than a cigarette. I can't help myself. Even when we're all together I give you the look. I use the name I called you in bed. I can't sit here and pretend you don't miss me. I can't sit and pretend you don't want to kiss me. To touch me one more time. No matter how long it's been and how far we've come and how much we love each other's significant other. Regardless of circumstance. If we could do it one more time. If we could play pretend and go back just for a night. I would pick you. You would pick me. No telling. No taksies backsies. We would.

I'm proud as **** of you. I'm glad I get to be here for this.
All I wanted was to be here for this

But I would be under you in a heartbeat if you asked
If you offered
If we spent a second alone.


I love you still
I miss you

— The End —