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strung out without a fix.
*03.28.03* @ *8:26 p.m.*
that weekend was spent forgetting to breathe because her eyes had a tendency to incapacitate me and writing poems with my fingertips while wiping away the tears that were clinging to her cheeks.
we lingered in new york streets with bottles in our hands, sadness in our hearts, and our sways infecting each other. i remember always wanting to stand that close to her. to know what her kisses tasted like, how her brain worked, and to dispell her aches and fears.
and it wasn't that i wanted to know these things because i was in love with her in the sexual lustful sense. i was intrigued by her because she was everything i could never be.
but when she put those fears to paper, she laid her head in my lap and watched as i swallowed them down.
[i still love you even though i'm far away...so so much.]