

Hangovers.I'd forgotten why words mean anything.Hangovers.
The whole weekend spent drunk and wasted on anything and everything they hand to hand. Best weekend ever? I'd say so. Only now, though, do I realise: My parents didnt know where I was I got much too... cuddly with a certain nice guy who my best friend loves. Only one shoe remaining Nothing to eat in 3 days Mysterious bruises on my legs and arms 2 hours sleep all weekend &n


I Will Regret Writing This.There are times, aren't there? Times when a logical nothingness drags through you and all your mind can bare is the thought that no one else will ever have to feel this for you.I Will Regret Writing This.
Clarity gives us hope; those golden moments which relieve the daily deja vu of so many numb days just to remind you that something is out there and someone, if you are pretty, may even care.
It cannot always be so reassuring though, can it? Glancing up at the stars as you walk through a familiar street crying or begging for something or anything can sometimes only remind you of what hurts the most; the burning fact that the only t


UnrequitedEloquence here is hard to find, But I can't find comfort, rest or relief As, in short my dear, love is not blind And my face ignores my heart's belief.Unrequited
Time heightens obsessions I cannot let you see, It won't heal these wounds; old or new Because we both know you can do better than me But darling, I can't do better than you.
It's terrifying for me, the thought of letting you go But through yet more rejection, I just cannot cope. Yet my heart still makes this mistake, I know That as long as we're living, there's hope.
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The truth? its a secret.
Was good to read*
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The truth? its a secret.
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