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the things that we take, to make us feel.i tried to keep you a part of myself for as long as i could. but like everything in my life, it crumbled and dissovled and all i ended up left with was all your bad habits and self destruction. dont get me wrong, if i had a choice between nothing, and putting cigarettes out on the palms on my hands the way you taught me, or drinking my coffee black and gritty, i'll take the later every time. (nothing hurts about the same)
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cause the only thing i've learned in my 21 years on this planet is that you're always told its going to be be 'okay.
that time heals all the crap that you're feeling right now, and that you have to not dwell on things so much, but i'm not dwelling, i'm holding onto the things that kept me breathing, cause i dont know if i can live without them anymore.
i am so fucking reliant on my crutches, and i can feel them being ripped from underneath me and i dont know how to get back up. my bones arent strong enough to be on their own to hold all this pressure. and i just want
Trei lacrimi reci de calatoareIon Minulescu
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Şi-ai să mă uiţi -
Că prea departe
Şi prea pentru mult timp porneşti!
Şi-am să te uit -
Că şi uitarea e scrisă-n legile-omeneşti.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Cu ochii urmări-vei ţărmul, topindu-se ca noru-n zare,
Şi ochii-ţi lăcrima-vor poate
Trei lacrimi reci de călătoare ;
Iar eu pe ţărm
Mâhnit privi-voi vaporu-n repedele-i mers,
Şi-nţelegând că mi-eşti pierdută,
Te-oi plânge-n ritmul unui vers.
Şi versul meu
L-o duce poate vreun cântăreţ până la tine,
Iar tu -
Cântându-l ca şi dânsul,
Plângându-l, poate, ca şi mine -
Te vei gândi la adorata în cinstea căreia fu scris,
Şi-uitând că m-ai uitat,
Vei smulge din cadrul palidului vis
Ca-n ziua când te-afunda vaporu-n zare