one hundred and four

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chapter 104
"old soul"

the words you say are a book
of every thing i want to hear
i guess i never really knew
until you took away the fear

that grows inside of me
which constantly harvests the idea
that i am never going to be
what anybody needs

but like a museum of modern art
every thing you do
blossoms from your heart
and missing you

feels like torture
so i promise i will never
let you collect dust
in the contents of my mind

and similarly

i don't find it easy to trust
and i frequently fall behind
but in the sparkles of your wanderlust
it is so exciting to call you mine

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