And at times I'm afraid.

I don't know what I'm here for.

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Slap me until I’m out of love.

Because it comes out of nowhere… the only thing that I can think to type, the only words and thoughts that taste good in my mind and mouth. The thoughts of you that had disppeared for a minute, leave me staring and drooling over the happy thoughts and memories.

Think before you start, dont think after your heart

has already made up it’s

fucking

mind.

You sit and cry because you have beautiful words and thoughts but they consist of an asshole and his face that haunts. You sit and cry because you forgot all the memories and everything ends, but you remember the feeling of a fluttering heartbeat and even though it feels like it was a ten-year long dream, it wasn’t. They are real memories that you really really forgot. Until nights like these when your face is fixed flat and the color in your eye gets lost in space. You let the delicious words flow and you cringe as they appear as words that can be changed or erased. Erased and forgotten: just like he would like.

Sleeping, dreaming in a state of sorrow that isn’t my own, is what I want. And a big comfy matress with jersey material sheets.

I cant help but lick my memories like a Tootsie pop.

One more lick and I’m too afraid

they’ll all

be all gone.

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Anonymous asked: Well it is nice to read, that your as normal as the rest of us. That you have those moments.... just like the rest of us. I have to say your very beautiful and I hope that your struggles don't drag you down too far. I hope that the things that make you happy continue to make you happy... as for some of us we loose interest in some of those things over time. As we worry ourselves to death about situations that we are responsible of...Enjoy the time you have for yourself for you

Thank you, I am as normal as anyone else. Nothing special here. What do you mean by “things that make me happy”? There’s lots of things that make me happy but some are actually getting a little old…