Paris, France for Everyone Index
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a quiet life
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Collin Creek Mall, Dallas, Texas, 1981.
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poema de amor | vÃctor m. alonso
victormalonso.com
repost
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January
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holding out for hole in the wall that may take me to unspeakable horrors but take me on a journey of self-recovery
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i keep letting him in. conversing with demons hasn’t been this easy since forever. never did i once stutter, yet i was afraid the whole time. when i told you this you thought i was fragile for we could never be intimate again. that wasn’t true, i guess. sort of.
tired of living on half truths, it seems you tell me the same all the time. yet you stress that our chance is bygone, and that these five minutes now is our relief.
i hesitate to say i’m happy for you, for i am not. i’m sore and decaying, and i can only say im at peace you are alright.
i am no longer burdened with your happiness. but nor blessed either.
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i have nothing. i have nothing to give. my shell is hollow and i feel sometimes you can feel it when you touch me. and i’m scared by it. the thought of you knowing i’m empty, that my ego drives my soul. for there is nothing else. i want to weep like a normal person, feel heartbreak just the same. why don’t scars heal like they used to? my jealousy consumes me, and i hate myself for it. forging a beast hungry for guilt in my stomach, made of wood and splintering my insides. this is how it feels to love you now. it used to be so easy. did i choose wrong?
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i don’t want to talk about anyone
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still life for everyone index
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drunk and gullible. wheelies on the sidewalk, null is evil when clawing chalk against the ground.
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