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he met her at 2:57 am.
she stared blankly at him and there was a toy lawnmower hanging from a tree.
she took small breaths, said she didn't feel a thing, and there was broken glass everywhere.
he liked the way her tongue formed the words and suddenly, he wanted to hear her talk again; he wanted her to talk to him.
he thought if only she would, he'd be so lucky and happier than he'd ever been.
he wanted to get to know her tongue, become familiar with the way she thought.
she said she didn't feel anything and he wanted to make her feel a lot.
he wanted to know her, to make her smile because that was all that was important.
he wanted to go to old coffee shops and laugh at stupid things, and he wanted to love her, to love when she said his name.
he met her at 2:57 am, when she stared blankly at him and there was a toy lawnmower hanging from a tree.
she took small breaths, said she didn't feel a thing, and there was broken glass everywhere.
he fell in love with the idea of her at 2:57 am but she'd built walls, couldn't feel a thing, and didn't need him like he needed her.



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