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The Unknown In My Veins

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At this point, I'm afraid to write. I've written about my pain and sorrow over this loss before, but that was when there was still hope of return. Now that that hope has disintegrated somewhere in the atmosphere, I'm afraid to reach into my heart and pull out whatever truly runs through my blood vessels leading into my slowly beating heart. What if it's something that had never made it to my brain? What if it is something worse than what I had ever thought of? What if it's just endless tears and aching that doesn't fade in and out, but constantly pains me? I don't want to put myself through whatever pain bringing out my real emotions could bring, but I know the pain I am currently battling will never subside if I do not get every drop of what's inside of me for him out. I want to write, but I can always convince myself there is something more productive for me to be doing and I quickly put down the pen and carry on. I should write, I need to write, I need to get him out of my system. I need to stop giving so much of myself to someone who no longer deserves to hold my soul and someone who no longer wants to.
You have a little bit more time to be the cause of my hurt, so enjoy watching me squirm because of the thought of you while you can because soon I'll be too good for you and there won't be anything left for you in me.



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