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Literature Text
To a boy, whose blue eyes are romanticized by a fifteen year old me,
and blonde hair shines like wheat in the fields I dreamt all my dreams,
I wanted to tell you,
it has been five months since you broke my heart.
It has been five months since you took everything I actually hoped would blossom, and smashed it beneath your shoe,
and I am still not over you.
I wanted to tell you,
that my heart belongs to him and not a day goes by when I don't smile at what three years has changed me into.
I am done writing love letters,
soft poetry on the edges of your lips.
I am done writing for any man,
who betrays my trust,
and leaves me stranded in the middle of the night.
Like you did.
I wanted to tell you,
there is love in my lungs for you.
You are soft, and brave. You are the sun to my moon, my parallel effect and I burned my own house to be with you. And you burned me right back.
I swallow air to keep myself from drowning in you.
No, I am not over you, not yet anyway.
But I have moved on past campfire stories.
I wanted to tell you,
I could never hate you.
I will always love you.
Those harsh words you left me, those bitter exchanges, never meant a thing.
And even if you never read this,
it wasn't for you.
It was for me.
I wanted to tell you,
in the only way I know how,
that this is the goodbye you never gave,
thrown right back to you.
And when you swallow, please remember to breathe.
Because that beach I left?
I'm still drowning.
and blonde hair shines like wheat in the fields I dreamt all my dreams,
I wanted to tell you,
it has been five months since you broke my heart.
It has been five months since you took everything I actually hoped would blossom, and smashed it beneath your shoe,
and I am still not over you.
I wanted to tell you,
that my heart belongs to him and not a day goes by when I don't smile at what three years has changed me into.
I am done writing love letters,
soft poetry on the edges of your lips.
I am done writing for any man,
who betrays my trust,
and leaves me stranded in the middle of the night.
Like you did.
I wanted to tell you,
there is love in my lungs for you.
You are soft, and brave. You are the sun to my moon, my parallel effect and I burned my own house to be with you. And you burned me right back.
I swallow air to keep myself from drowning in you.
No, I am not over you, not yet anyway.
But I have moved on past campfire stories.
I wanted to tell you,
I could never hate you.
I will always love you.
Those harsh words you left me, those bitter exchanges, never meant a thing.
And even if you never read this,
it wasn't for you.
It was for me.
I wanted to tell you,
in the only way I know how,
that this is the goodbye you never gave,
thrown right back to you.
And when you swallow, please remember to breathe.
Because that beach I left?
I'm still drowning.
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