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the violet past prime
"A boy is not worth your tears and the one who is won't
make you cry."
i'm sure she's thinking about you, too.
the pain isn't quite searing, but there's a trickle, a
spurt, a stream of sadness and frustration and despair.
i don't want to be a good friend anymore.
i just want to be a girl.
i want him to be a boy.
friends over lovers, right?
but what do you do when he's both?
what do you do when you listen to music and write poetry
about him, not even because it's HIM but because there's
this immense emotional void and he's the one who came along
and happened to fill it?
he loves and misses her.
i miss my emotional independance.
[then of thy beauty do i question make/that thou among the
wastes of time must go/since sweets and beauties do
themselves forsake/and die as fast as they see others grow]