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I don't know what to say right now.
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Neverland is dead, Peter and Hook too. The Titanic sank, along with the crew.
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This is an SOS But I'm a realist
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Sometimes I see a scrawling, of such unrequited love, That my heart stops, backs up, and does a little somersault.
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Funny... Things like that. Things you can't see coming,
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I'm looking at a photo of you, again. And it's not that I can't understand, I can.
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It's been months since I've wanted to go to bed, Knowing, sometime, I'd have to wake up,
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Should I have spoken more clearly, Or tugged at your skin more dearly?
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My ring, with stars, I bought only months ago, Shouldn't remind me of you.
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My words have fallen hollow since the first time we wrote, They fall to wanting ears-- although I can't seem to scribe
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I realize late at night, that you're the one to make everything bearable, everything right. That the reason we write for each other is because we're both each others biggest fans.
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Remember when our hands touched at Pride? I tried to tell myself that's what a friend's hand feels like.
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Quit reading my poems, thinking you're in them, You're not.
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Fuck, holy shit, I thought I could take it. I thought if I wrote down my thoughts, I could take it.
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Your timing is amazing, and while I could never blame it on you, I realized you were right, every word you wrote was true.
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This isn't about you (well, in a way, it is)
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While I speed--turbulent--through the vector Sewing with strings of theory
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I smoke two joints in the morning- In hopes of fueling your escape.
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The goosebumps on my bare arms make you shiver, Just like breezes in May do to me.
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Tucked into blue jeans, corduroy perfection, Black existence buzzing through my mind
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I shake when thoughts of you mingle with memories of fall.
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Tell me when he hurts you. If he's anywhere close,
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a fingerless glove left in the snow
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If I just breathe, Then I'd choke on the memories that flood my lungs.
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Realizing in the past year that love DOES rhyme with hideous car wreck, I put it away... And somehow it reopened my own wreck of a heart.
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I can only think of titles No more words.
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Pitting in the sky and long flashes of light, Not Peter. Not stars. Only Time Scars,
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"I cause you pain, The kind you can't suffer quietly."
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Having created this little world of mine, With the large groups of people,
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And she's the smoke I'm getting high on now. With my drawn-on face, and my low-slung brow.
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