The very word marriage, is a blight. We are conditioned to only be aware of ourselves as individuals and are not satisfied to leave behind the careless and transitory love of the opposite sex.
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Sharing poems & thoughts, one redacted word at a time.
The very word marriage, is a blight. We are conditioned to only be aware of ourselves as individuals and are not satisfied to leave behind the careless and transitory love of the opposite sex.
I didn't want him to kiss me. I don't love him. I never did. I deluded myself, made him into a new man - not a human, fallible being.
He found himself breathless with her curious mouth and overwhelmingly aware of every minute.
I blindly love him - with a burning, helpless love.
Her smell in my bed the night before was the beginning of my jealousy.
Imagine if everybody had my feelings.
Forget fate and nature, allow love to be the strongest.
It is like writing a diary to you, my poems are all for you.
You gave me stories and poems so, very simply, you show me that hope and love are in this world.
Intoxicated by intimacy, he swore he loved her.