shot spent
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Ongoing, First published Jul 16, 2020
As a kid, this is how I looked when I was sick but didn't wanna be ill. My body remembers, so here I am having fought pain and discomfort, setback and mourning of an old life, for some odd seven years.

I've sown, but I might be too tired to yield.
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I'll always remember us | ✔️ by author_jxsmine
51 parts Complete Mature
growing up and growing apart sometimes people who really love you have to leave you for your own good and it's okay to grow apart holding on to things that hurt isn't a wise choice They broke up in college but now are forced into an arranged marriage Will the sparks fly again or........ ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• Wrong place, wrong time, wrong people, right man Surrounded with unfortunate events, unfortunate people Those slim waists, slim faces, long hair and long nails Those long legs, large hands, fluffy hair and beaded bracelets They don't belong together last days, best times, red hands and playing fights Social priorities, diwali parties, arm wrestling and life stories That's the closure I needed Searching the crows, you stand tall, stand out Walking out of that building with hurt hands and burnt minds scholar badge, scholar board, Council badges and red coats brown pants,white shirts, black shoes and red ties Sprawling crowds, yellow buses, red rickshaws and black cycles ice cream man, Mother Dairy, white vans and red lights Saw you walking on the footpath with rolled up sleeves with few friends I wouldn't wish I would be there I couldn't wish I could be there Could you be specific who do you like? Blinding lights, goodbyes, Friday promises and exam time White walls, black boards, blue desks and A/C nobs Sweet memories scattered in my head Teardrops all over my bed These are the things I'll never forget And that's the price I paid cover credit: pinterest
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I've tried to release this pain in so many different ways; But writing about you seems to be one of my faves. I don't understand how I find closure When I know it only lasts until the poem is over. Somehow it feels like some sort of imaginary relief to my reality. As if, the pain I feel only exists until the words are free. I know how crazy it may seem Because the heartbreak will always be there; And I will never un-feel what you've done to me.