horsehasslehoff
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falestine you will be free
the war will end
the leaders will shake hands
The woman will wait for her martyred son
the girl will wait for her beloved husband
and those children will wait for their heroic father
I don't know who sold our homeland
But I know who paid the price.
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my heart feels too much
I grew up Mother. I am not at the size where you can carry me anymore. My worries have increased and risen. My dreams are far taller than me. I grew up to the point, that I cannot knock on your door at night; and cry.
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it is through deprivation and dissipation that I have become enlightened…
:)
Lori Gottlieb, Maybe You Should Talk to Someone: A Therapist, Her Therapist, and Our Lives Revealed
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the more I know, the less I understand
I became aware of the space between seconds.
i don’t know what they are called, but it is in those intervals I think of you.
and feel your absence.
.
but you’ll still find me searching for compatibility.
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because of my doubts and anxieties
I only believe in fire
That is the story of my neurosis
i only believe in fire.
…
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Rock n roll
I want to climb on the back of your iron steed.
your arms wrapped around mine
how fast do you want to go? ….
…
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Too late
my poetry is ofcourse, too late
most poems are late
;too late
like a letter sent by a sailor
that arrives after he has drowned.
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dark, dark, dark
what the hell is tragedy?
I am.
I know you’re tired but come,
come this way.
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Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry
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I’m in love with this man


Handsome handsome handsome
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— Sylvia Plath, from "Letters Home"
[text ID: I write only because there is a voice within me that will not be still.]
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