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I don't write. I create.

We came close to life; only death snatched you away.
Had we been brave enough to say, ‘I love you.’ Maybe, we would have spent these last months together.
I’m sorry I closed my heart off to love. I carry a rock of guilt with me, and it rubs against my heart with every fast beat.
I apologise for being cold with you.
Rest in peace, my love.

I plotted and plotted and decided upon white tulips.
I stole from the local Florist as a way to support local businesses with an experience! What would you do? The scenario on lips dabbled in many conversations.
I also robbed a bag of change for my arcade day trip vacations.
Who are you? Just a thing with a title.
Call me Jean and expect no justice.





The Inside of Love
I pressed call and called you and you answered.
We spoke and I laughed, you cried and we understood one another.
At that point, I believed we clicked.
Only, it wasn’t too long before you faded and the pages caught fire. I wanted these words to be permanent. Life does not kiss hearts with pink.
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