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XxX May 2015
Late nights in your car, listening to turnover and drinking coffee.
For the longest time I was that girl in the Paramore shirt and converse.
Eventually you asked me my name and to be friends.
Friends didn't last long due to the fact that we clicked instantly.
From music to mannerisms we were in sync.
When I think of you, I smell coffee and cigarettes.  
I feel warm knowing I'll always have your jacket and arms to keep me warm.
I'm always cold because I know we're both terrified to lose each other.
But when I started to drift from you for the first time, you didn't say anything because you didn't want to be over-barring.
After a while you caved and finally told me you missed me.
But what I miss, is the way it feels when you hugged me and i breathed in your scent.
When you touch me, I have no thoughts, all I hear is complete silence.
I'm always nervous but more calm than ever with you.
You know my struggles and have seen my scars but still tell me its okay and I'm beautiful anyways.
I like the way your eyes light up when you talk about the new sextape single; your smile is contagious.
You say I make you jealous when I talk about all the boys who've touched me,
But no one is more jealous than me when I think about all the girls you've held and told THEM that you LOVED THEM.
I don't think I can handle us being "friends" much longer.
Every time I'm with you I go to grab your hand but never reach it because I'm scared for your hand to slip out of mine.
I never thought of my future because I'd rather be dead, but if you're with me, being alive doesn't sound too bad.
about a boy
cal Feb 2022
TW- ED
this feels like *** with my ex
relapsing
a cigarette in the cold
the 2nd day without food
laying down after crying as you're abt to fall asleep
sitting in the car with you and we're both cold as **** but i don't want-
you to go inside
off with the ex
and onto the next best
picture in the paper
only naturists dress less
open to all takers
thinks that *** equates to success
her ego and her **** inflated
rated for her *******
plies her trade upon the pavement
of the info superhighway
advertises with a sextape
source of pride her gaping ****
teaching tricks to tweens
so she can take their cash when theyre teenagers
morals of a quean
still requires a king to make her famous
ive got more respect for a crackhead street walker than the likes of a kardashian.

— The End —