Tuesday, May 27, 2014

poem # 843402263107

This is the one
where i say i love you
for the millionth time
when inside me
there is no more
left to be broken,
when i am tired,
so tired

It makes me wonder
whether i would have
been worse off
had we held hands
more often,
had i been able to
curl up against you
as much as i wanted,
instead of cursing at
the continents and oceans
between us and
thinking up novel ways
to prove that
We were and that
i did not imagine you and
Us,especially now that
you are quite decisively
 just you
and i am making the
aching, heartbreaking
journey towards

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