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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#415391voted by our readers
By Michaela-Rose BRONZE
Oakley, California
His name, it slips off my tongue like turpentine, as I sit here in shame, and pretend to be fine. I thought he loved me, I thought he cared, I miss how things used to be,...
Oakley, California
His name, it slips off my tongue like turpentine, as I sit here in shame, and pretend to be fine. I thought he loved me, I thought he cared, I miss how things used to be,...