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Literature Text
if i was bad old bonny you would be my clyde
if you love me
won't you tell me
by a message
through the phone,
you'd be the joker to my harlequinn, they won't take us alive
if you love me
won't you tell me
when we're out or
when we're home
you're the bam bam to my pebbles, i'm juliet to romeo
if you love me
won't you tell me
when we're here
together or alone
you're my daring hero tristan, i'm the dainty ol' isolde
if you love me
won't you let me
love you back?
a little?
NO.
if you love me
won't you tell me
by a message
through the phone,
you'd be the joker to my harlequinn, they won't take us alive
if you love me
won't you tell me
when we're out or
when we're home
you're the bam bam to my pebbles, i'm juliet to romeo
if you love me
won't you tell me
when we're here
together or alone
you're my daring hero tristan, i'm the dainty ol' isolde
if you love me
won't you let me
love you back?
a little?
NO.
Literature
before
a little while ago
maybe a couple of months or something
i wasn't drinking ; instead i was
waking up to you
every morning you would stretch
and your spine would move and i felt it all over
your skin stretched into the sun and
i saw it everywhere
but guess what, that shit was gold and
gold doesn't last and you didn't last.
i got boring and you got mean.
and you're less of a gypsy and more of
a woman and i know if i called you up tonight
said hey baby come home
how did we get here baby i'm crying on the
floor drinking lime pepsi
and this goddamn pepsi is flat. so why don't
you come home. just for the night.
you would say you h
Literature
Hidden in the shadows
She used to love shadows,
Lonely, simple
Just like her.
[Or maybe like the rest of the world]
She was 18, going on 8
Looking at the world through a crystal glass,
Never falling for the treacherous trick called love
[That's where our similarities end.]
"Love is hunger," She says.
In that case, give me a buffet.
You loved me once, but not in that way.
I feel like a shadow.
Literature
cracks in my mind
sometimes i think the boy who hurts himself is beautiful. my breath paints my windowsill a shade of intrigue as i watch his shadow dance underneath a nearby streetlight. he lets the streetlights become his suns at night because at twelve noon he's off somewhere planning his next breath. he's off somewhere driving for miles wondering if for once he'll find his way. i've come to memorize the way he would play everything safe, the way he would check boxes and believe that life was some list. the way the air was thick as his lips would play tictacto down my body in a pattern i knew all too well. (someone had to win) i were the o's as i asked him
Suggested Collections
ha, just thinking about a guy.
spawned it off.
hopefully this story will have a slightly happier ending.
and i suppose in case he reads it, the day you dressed as the joker was the day i first started liking you, alreet?
x
spawned it off.
hopefully this story will have a slightly happier ending.
and i suppose in case he reads it, the day you dressed as the joker was the day i first started liking you, alreet?
x
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#dALinkSystem'd here: A Dream of Battle.