The desperation I had held toward her was so natural due to the attention I have never received. Thus, it was ironic I never returned back when she wanted me to.
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Bleeding Blue
PoetryI do not see color anymore. I cannot love no more. I don't think I want to live furthermore. Genre: Poetry
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The desperation I had held toward her was so natural due to the attention I have never received. Thus, it was ironic I never returned back when she wanted me to.
