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no one warns little girls how boys with such pretty eyes who smell like smoke, who tastes like rain, who talk like silver, are reasons behind tear soaked pillows, half finished poems and so many sad dreams - nikita gill


Where are you now when I need you the most. It's been months and I can't sleep at night thinking tomorrow might be the day I see you again

Sometimes I awake think good, it was a bad dream. Then reality comes slowly back. You are not coming back.

"You're not coming back. You're not coming back. I know you're not coming back. Please come back.


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