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This diary entry is written by ‹✖[[AntisocialButterfly]]✖›. ( View all entries )
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(untitled)Category: Thoughts.
Wednesday, 15 August 2012
10:59:45 PM (GMT)
These, this, is so much, to me, for me, my thoughts. 
Isn't it always, the words to make me safe, what I need?
Saying yes, saving no for a day, a better day, when I can handle it.
I'd like to know.
These things I think about, these questions that have answers so elusive and
kaleidoscope changing colors, I want, I want, I want.
I wonder these things with my wondering, wandering mind,
Is your skin hot? Or does it feel cold? 
I imagine hands, my hands, your hands.
I want to know. Your bones, kisses, solid, warm, soft, 
How will I ever know? 
I need you here to teach me.
I'll never learn this expressive way of bringing all my swirled, 
mixed thoughts into existence, reality, actuality, 
unless you're here to teach me intimacy and help me to exist in ways I never could

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