love me

THERE ARE GAPS IN OUR CHESTS(THERE ARE GAPS WHERE OUR HEARTS ONCE WERE!!!)THERE ARE GAPS IN OUR CHESTS
i. i call you darling. you used to call me beautiful until i lost enough weight and you gained enough sadness that together we were no longer whole enough to support each other. you never cry when you're sad the way i do and every place i wished you had kissed is scarred and i can no longer take off my clothes with out turning away from the mirror. now, you don't call me beautiful and i cannot blame you, though every time you leave i feel myself falling apart at the seams because i don't think you know how much i need you. so it's not like i can't get by with out you; i can and


A Not-Love Poem[What the stars tossed, salt-casual, onto the not-black of the not-night suggest could be love, but I can't read them.]A Not-Love Poem
This is not a love poem, not-love, a not-love poem.
Falling waist deep into February stomping the signatures of lost years in footprints on the pristine present- this, not-night has become electric with memories smashing through the thin ice of teenage alchemy, charged, with the possibility of heartache,
laundry
:]
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There's no substitution for the real thing.
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www.lenw.org
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-/*[ why not dream a dream of me ]-//<
saludos
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POP es amor , POP is love , POP est amour
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iko.
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