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“If I could touch the stars,
reach up and feel the sky,
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My movements are tossed, tipped over like the Titanic,
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"We are all in the gutter, but
some of us are looking at the stars."
- Oscar Wilde
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Hurting deep
Without a sound
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I look back and see my footprints leading away from home. It’s a bit hard to tell that they’re there in the darkness of the night, even with the snow reflecting the light from the porch. Running away. Why does it sound so dra
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Listening to the radio. Our song comes on. I think of you, obviously. That dark night not too long ago, the red and blue neon lights we pass in your car, the stereo blaring. We pass my house. “What…w—go back, you missed it.”
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I hate myself I’m just a big blob of nothingness
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Out in the shade of the morning with the crisp air and light frost on the leaves, we wake up in eachother's arms to the sound of a car on a nearby road. "Don't let go of me," I say. But you must go, and we both know it. On ou
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Joyful depression
Is there such a thing as that?
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It still makes me sad to read what you wrote so long ago under my willow tree. Words about your life being over forevermore. Well, I say nevermore. Nevermore shall it be that way, not so long as I am here. My note to you: “Do
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People all around say, “Like father, like son” but
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Everyone dies
in this world of lies.
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The archer's heat
is one that aches
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Don't play that with me.
That real stupid game of yours
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Who got me in here?
Answer: me, myself, and I.
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Who are they?
Are they the cause of sorrow,
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