It's true, I want something. I want to exhaust this one short life.
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Sharing poems & thoughts, one redacted word at a time.
It's true, I want something. I want to exhaust this one short life.
Relentless self-scrutiny is not so easily changed. Obsessive inner discomfort can be compulsive and bring feelings of shame with oneself.
People criticize a woman who gives up love, yet no one criticizes the man for the same story. The woman bears the blame in love and life.
All that time in a forest and I found nothing but beautiful grace.
Regret was a familiar feeling, a comfortable blur of thoughts that felt hopeless.
Good or bad, there's every reason for hope in this existence.
You could have predicted what happened next - I shouldn't listen to all that fairy-tale crap.
You threw me away, I loved you to the point of distraction. More than anything, imagine that. We were so intimate I could puke.
The kind of stuff we have is a once-in-a-lifetime love.
Don't compare. It can move you to regret.