Life is the paper, you're the pen.

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We

we is a funny word, because it’s also a phrase, it’s also something people want to say or run away. We is two letters that when put together makes an Us. An Us is something We want. An Us is something I want. Wants, needs, deserves, all apart of We. Find your We, make an Us. Be happy.

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You

You’re interested when someone else is. You want what you can’t have. I’m a toy you play with till you realize there’s a new one, but you try to come back for nostalgia. No, stop, fuck off, quit it. You don’t get to come and go as you please. I’m not a door mat you walk on. I’m the club where your under 21, you’ve walked out and you can’t come back now. Accept it. Look at me as you would the rest of your past, with your memories. Use that as a guide to not fuck up the future. For I, I met someone. Moved on. Packed my shit and left. She’s interested without the interest of others. She sees me, likes me, wants me. Her complexity is simple even when her past might not be. You can be happy, you can allow it. Happiness is a mindset and you have control. Put down the wall you’ve built. The taller it gets the worse the climb. Make it an ant hill for someone to notice, avoid, but still realize it’s there. Live the life you want, but do it better.

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Searching…

To me everyone has their other half. That half, whether it be the person you meet now, later, or never, is looking for you. You are looking for them. Not consciously, or subconsciously, maybe a mix between the two like milk meeting chocolate to make an unspeakably inseparable combination that one can love. Love is the void looking to be filled. Your heart is not broken, but missing gaps, the other person will pull you in and cover them up. You’re both on this planet playing a game of hide and soul seek and you’re hoping to win, or lose, depending on the seeker and the hider. Point is, there is none. You will, you won’t, you might, you can’t or can meet the person that you deserve to me. For me, I have, I think, I’m not sure. My heart is missing because someone stole it, kept it, and I’m never wanting them to give it back. I don’t need it. 4 weeks, 31 days, let’s multiply it by 100 years and grow old and see grey because hey, I love you.

Filed under me

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Addicted

I’m addicted.
Your body is my pipe.
I want to wrap my lips around you.
Pull in.
I want to taste you.
Feel the high you produce.
I want to lay back.
Let me feel seduced.
I’ll go numb, just for a bit.
It feels so good, after my hit…
To you. 

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What I do

When I am forced to eat alone, that’s fine, as long as I’m not feeling lonely. I tend to wander the crowds with my eyes and see what the people do. They’re all in their own little world, without a care in that world. They don’t care if you stare, because I do. No one bats an eye, they just fumble around to where they want and feel the need to go. Not me, for I stop. I stare. I look. I listen. I watch. I feel. I take in the environment like my lungs do the oxygen that surrounds me. Slow and steady, in and out. Filling with the air I need to survive, I do the same with the people that surround. I learn and laugh, sometimes I feel bad. People don’t understand they look like a school of fish ready to drown. Next time you are alone, but not feeling lonely, take a look around and see for yourself. Even in a world full of people, you can be invisible if you just stop.