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literature
23:23
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Literature Text
it is 23:23 and the only thought on my mind is that of your arm cradling my waist
you did it once as a joke
you called me 'sweetheart' to see how much it would take to make me blush
your lips brushed my cheekbone
remember the whispered conversations that smelt of mint and tasted of coffee
my hands curled and warm with yours
your hand would stroke my hip and not flinch at the scars
maybe I do not help myself by reliving these memories
perhaps therapy through writing will only make this worse because with every memory brings the loss and heartbreak and goodbye
what goodbye? everything ended at the autumn dawn
I sailed off towards those I love
you ran to hide from the one you were infatuated with
"I need to see you soon"
" I miss you"
"I love you"
it is a shame how the hands which once so carefully and delicately cupped mine
are now gripping the headboard of her bed
the smirks which once seemed so full of hidden jokes might as well be filled with malicious intent
the once kissed lips are now chapped and cold
the dark locks of mine that you used to twirl around your finger, cut short
cut short like our time, my love
and yet I would plant my lips on yours in a heartbeat
that would be better than another minute of longing for you to cease
you did it once as a joke
you called me 'sweetheart' to see how much it would take to make me blush
your lips brushed my cheekbone
remember the whispered conversations that smelt of mint and tasted of coffee
my hands curled and warm with yours
your hand would stroke my hip and not flinch at the scars
maybe I do not help myself by reliving these memories
perhaps therapy through writing will only make this worse because with every memory brings the loss and heartbreak and goodbye
what goodbye? everything ended at the autumn dawn
I sailed off towards those I love
you ran to hide from the one you were infatuated with
"I need to see you soon"
" I miss you"
"I love you"
it is a shame how the hands which once so carefully and delicately cupped mine
are now gripping the headboard of her bed
the smirks which once seemed so full of hidden jokes might as well be filled with malicious intent
the once kissed lips are now chapped and cold
the dark locks of mine that you used to twirl around your finger, cut short
cut short like our time, my love
and yet I would plant my lips on yours in a heartbeat
that would be better than another minute of longing for you to cease
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