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I was ****** into your finely woven poetic web of seduction, unable to resist the allure of the danger ahead.
It was just a dream.
We were walking on the sidewalk.
Holding hands like kids to picnics.
It was dark, rains drizzling like in heaven.
Gentle breeze singing a love song.
Holding an umbrella we were walking,
Walking an endless path.
She told me secrets and we laughed.
Suddenly she started kicking me.

It was just a dream.
I woke up to a painful kick ever.
A cup of tea in one hand,
Laughing at how I got up awkwardly,
She woke me up, No! she kicked me.
Uh! It was just a dream !
I tell the made-up stories of raconteurs
pouring their hearts out on empty paper

I help people learn, love, and laugh;
They dream with others as a source of
happiness, hope n' stuff

'your name' appears in books
that makes people cry

I am somehow a sanctuary of
people with dreams that remain fruitless
They use my name to fantasize about the times
they can never fully feel;

I, y/n.
Y/n is used in books called 'x readers,' y/n is an abbreviation of 'your name';
I wrote this from the perspective of y/n but, it isn't in the pov of the reader.

Y/n can be anyone, honestly.
How do I reconcile
The joy of learning
To love myself
After all those years of hate
With the fear
That loving me is a lesson
Only I can learn
I'm comfortable and confident in my own skin these days, but I feel so alone
ive done everything i ever could to be easy to love
i let people walk all over me and stay silent when they hurt me
i let people say whatever they want and i brush it off
i let people use me and abuse me for their own pleasure
i let people do whatever made them happy even if i wouldn't feel the same

ive been putting every single person in my life above myself
only thinking about how they feel
just so id be easy to love
but every one still leaves me
why cant they stay
i do everything for them
why cant they do the same
concrete footprints
size one date two thousand three
some things never change
Snorels trapped in a serpent's stake demonstrate and swear by a large vest; fewer and fewer than those who still have personal rights to light garbage cans and get into public Bachan ****** with *******-virgins is illegal! Every beautiful word, artificial beauty, sounds jerky between compressed gorilla lips! My flesh splits in two and my bald hair sparks fire and sparks on the insults of romance!
 
All my slips are deliberately running out, and I have to cry every minute of my martyrdom until my tongue gains again, judgmental prophecy! In fertile rebellions, it is no longer possible to know exactly which side you are standing on! - Even among enthusiastic cloakers, the lousy slat can vibrate from amateur caresses! "Between the rows between the railings, wild beasts can go to their troughs!" Honest handshakes also turn into pathetic question marks!
 
And everyone has become so suspicious that more and more people are starting to portray themselves from the nicely ringing genre places of their careers! Who already suffers from a single disease, an old girl?! And do small people strengthen the camp of albinos or enthusiastic dwarves? Muscle-core, self-kneading among Hercules and Atalanta, how can the compulsion to comply with exaggeration remain healthy?! - Everything among the chemically abracadabra of shameless null-calories, paleo-diets is already screaming and anxiety; a calvary of deliberately wounded souls turned back into deep layers!
 
They can't feel good in their skin because they flashed a **** bikini figure, and an unpleasant cellulite was also sacrificed - those who know the nimbus of perfection as manic obsessives deliberately suffer a paralyzing spell.
one wild cat was my world
only you could seen
what is it colour
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