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[text ID: I woke up in the morning and I didn’t want anything, didn’t do anything, couldn’t do it anyway, just lay there listening to the blood rush through me. /end ID]
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He loves you so much that he's turned it into hate.
Lauren DeStephano

Richard Siken, Crush (Wishbone)
Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.
Kait Rokowski

José Olivarez, Citizen Illegal

This is how we loved: a knife on the tongue turning
into a tongue.
Ocean Vuong
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saw this on my facebook feed and thought it was funny
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coming back to the things you loved when you were younger feels so special
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Do you ever just smell an old perfume, or hear an old song, or pass an old hangout spot and kinda break inside for a couple minutes.
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