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#love poem

Daje z siebie 100 procent, a i tak wciąż to za mało, każdy bierze więcej i więcej, a ja znikam, tracę siły, już nie mam co dać, zwłaszcza kiedy nigdy nie otrzymuje nic w zamian.

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well, today I’ve become a year older, and I want to say that you must believe in yourself and express yourself, you have the right to do so.

remember that you cannot trust people who hurt again and again, and finally stop talking to people who are toxic or make you feel insignificant.

you are beautiful and proud birds, do not let your wings be cut off, you should start to think positively about yourself.

I love you, and it is you who give me the feeling of liveliness.☕🌿

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do u ever see the trailer for a movie and u really wanna watch it but then u realise its based on a book so u force urself to read the book before u watch the movie and by the time ur done w the book u dont have enough time OR energy to watch the movie so u wait a week or two and THEN when u finally watch the movie it is the best experience ever and u cry at the end and ok none of this makes sense but i stg this is the story of my life

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So his idea of the city itself, even though she was gone from it, was pervaded with a melancholy beauty.

- By F. Scott Fitzgerald “The Great Gatsby”

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it wasn’t her skin or her eyes
it wasn’t how she laughed and talked
it weren’t the tattoos on her shoulder and thighs
it wasn’t how she danced or walked

it was all about how she made my heart move
And always held my hands
It was about absolute support
And to take time to simply understand

And you know what, she did all of the above
Even I didn’t understand

- M.

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21

Кратък миг под звездите,

оветен от уханието на тъга и пролет

събира модерните рицари.

Някъде надалеч,

птичия говор

дава знак, отговор,

на въпросите който тайм в себе си,

загадките който поставяме сами.

Цигулка свири сама в мрака.

Краткия миг вече е свършил.

Отговори не са нужни.

- И.Х

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i am sorry, my dearest

that i do not know how to tell you about it all.

that i dig my nails into my arms instead of telling you about the marks old and new crossing my wrists and thighs in lines.

i say, i say, i say , but i say nothing in the end.

i want to tell you hopeful stories like you do for me, and be good and ok and everything you see me as, but i am not honest. i wish i was, just for you.

i am afraid that my head would crush your ribcage, me a giant, something you see as revolting, but you have enough to deal with. i’d worry that you think that i thought that of you, that you wouldn’t think you were perfect, but that couldn’t happen. i think you are perfect, my dearest darling honey. sweeter than summertime blueberries.

can i be honest for a moment? i hope you don’t read this, because you know me so god-awful well that i think you’d know, and i have secrets i need to tell, but not to you. i worry that they’d hurt you

i worry.

i didn’t fall in love with the way you looked first. i think you are beautiful now, because i know i love you. because i see your beauty. you are perfect, truly. perfect for me, at the very least. i know that you think i’m beautiful, that i was at first sight. i am sorry i did not do the same for you. i meant it when i said it, though. i always meant it.

sometimes, i am wrought with guilt over the things i say. i was scared to relapse. i was scared that i’d pulled a knife on myself again. i was scared that i’d drag you down. is it a sin, my love, to want so badly to know it will be ok like you tell me when i know it is worse for you?

i want to be pretty for you, sweetheart. i want it to hurt. i want to stop eating. i want to be like you. i know that you want me happy, but i don’t want to be. i am sorry. i am sorry that i want to so badly, and i am sorrier that i can’t do it.

i stay alive for you most days, honey. did you know that? i wake up because i want to talk to you. when my head falls to thoughts of dying like a drunkard to a bottle of vodka, i think of what would become of you. i think i’d want to tell you myself. that won’t happen. i won’t let it. i want our future together. i want to love you for the rest of your life and the rest of mine.

there’s one truth i put in my love letters though- i hope to god that you believe it. i love you so much, with my whole heart, til the oceans run dry.

signed,

your girl <3

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Daydreaming of lovers and wine.

The kinds of thoughts that Dionysus seduced me with. The kind that tickle in my heart and bite that rose into my cheeks.
Warm days naked by a waterfall. Cold ones naked in bed.
The kind of lifestyle that that keeps you coming…
And coming back for more.
Luxury in the lips of a friend, in the coolness of the grass, in letting the sun touch what is bare.
Like the rush of alcohol, love washes over me.
The magic in these moments was meant to last forever.

Alas, when I look outside.

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