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Well, my crazy heart may be the death of me later on. Like it had been for my mom. We both have gambling hearts that throw the die at every shot at the jackpot called happiness.
Dear Raven, The naked mole-rat intentions that rashesthe film of your eyes nudges the clay whichcrumbles in a whisper, spotting a flutter,hissing into the dust I bite. Bathe under your chalky roof, sculpted fromliquor-sweet caresses that anchor yo
The day that we met, I thought I was saved. But as we grew, you made me lose my way. Day-to-day you say you’ll be there for me, that you love me with all of your might. But how can that be,
Dear sylvia plath, kristen stewart, Josephine from my chemistry class, and every other girl I know,
Dear Makala, As we get closer to graduation I see the worry piling in your eyes. You claim that there is much to do. I always tell you the same thing,