Those were a few good months
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I know it's impossible.
But I just want a kiss of those lips of yours.
Soft, I hope.
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Is this the companion they talk about in movies?
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At this point I just wish at the end of the day I just could get to hug you and hold you in my arms.
Through Ik that would be a lame and selfish expectation on my side.
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La chica de Kyushu capítulo 1 fragment 2
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Im telling stories because I can't live with myself.
La chica de Kyoto
Chapter 1 (fragment 1,2,3)
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I still believe that softness,
Tenderness
Is what we all need
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A friend* yesterday apparently got mad at me for smt I am not aware of and started talking about someone that Tried to r_p me.
She know about this, but I wonder aren't friends supposed to be our safe haven?
I'm just going to tell her because I won't put up with her shit
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So I long for the softness,
Of your touch
Tender,
Cloud, cotton-like.
I may lie in anticipation
Waiting in the sand feels like an eternity
But,
I would only lie still
Until the salty water reaches
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So tell me, when does it stop?
When does it stop hurting?
Why the Air is so thick
Thankfully my memories being so bad,
I can't remember dates
I remember pieces
Of information, visuals and feelings
What is attached to this pain?
That can't let me go
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There was a time when I though I should jump to meet you half way
So I started To jump
But I was never able to meet you because you kept moving
Fortunately when you looked the other way, you set me free
So I had to start to jump back
To slowly get back to myself
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There is emotion in your walk...
Is it because you like Leaving?
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“I need to see you. I need to feel you. I want the routine with you and I want the madness with you. I want all of it with you. Feed the cats and get on the damn plane. I want you here with me.”
— Ernest Hemingway, from a letter to Martha Gellhorn
(via violentwavesofemotion)
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Some Sundays,
I can feel all tired
Of not having you by my side
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Is it your heart that burns? Sets itself on fire to re-birth. Is it even possible? Do you care for the ghosts that live among us. Don't mind the dead. Past is a closed book, we can look into it but never edit it. It would never be rewritten again. Who are the naïves that try to rebuild a dead body? Frankestein was a failed experiment because the world do not accept of their own.
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