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#1 (permalink) |
Psycho
Location: the land of cotton
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heartache
res miranda.
day of the dead. i lifted up my wounded heart. surrendered it to the setting sun. you tore it apart. at the seams it seems i never wished on falling stars that you would stay and live my way. and yet you wandered so far to be by my side only to run. to run and stem the crying tide you left in me. you say your ambiguity makes you crazy but i i am driven till i break by the memory of those nights lying naked on the floor feeling the blood in my veins and wanting pleading for more. more of your sweet love. you are in my blood. and today is the day of the dead. res miranda. |
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#5 (permalink) |
TFPer formaly known as Chauncey
Location: North East
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I am glad you were able to write in your own form, it is quite refreshing to see someone not write to be in a set form.
Your poem was able to have more impact for me. Thanks
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~Esen What is everyone doing in my room? |
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#7 (permalink) |
Illusionary
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I dont know if I should feel sorry for you , or enjoy the fruits of your pain.....hows this, thanks for sharing
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Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha |
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heartache |
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