This part is all going to be double of what I have written in the last parts previous as this is a milestone of this book ^-^
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Sometimes you've got to love the dead, to respect the living.
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My 'friends' call me crazy, that's why I don't call them friends.
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This girl was talking to me today about him and it got me so furious, he's not even mine but I couldn't bare the thought, according to others she wrecks relationships and I know I never had a chance with him before, he's a close friend, but after hearing what she said about him it made me realise how in a way, I know, that he will never be mine.
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I feel like jealousy and self-hatred work together, so paranoid that others view me how I view myself then get jealous as others have so much confidence.
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I'm drifting away from him and it's physically making me sick, all the times were he just doesn't speak to me any more it makes me go crazy, what type of dick would do that to someone!
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You see us how you wish, all amount of time and money we spend trying to change that is just a waste of dignity.
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The madness is too strong for me to resist, and my eyes are blurring and I swear out of the corner of my eye there's a horse talking to a serial killer and the voices in my head won't leave me alone.
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I either talk to much,
or talk to little.
I either eat the entire fridge,
or starve for days.
I either go clean for months,
or run to the bathroom just trying to make the pain stop.
I want you to know me,
but honestly I don't even know myself.
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I'm just a useless teenage girl, with cuts on on her wrists, and a broken smile on her face.
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YOU ARE READING
Stuff I write and find
PoetryJust a collection of poems and quotes I find or make up just because okay...
