I get a shit ton of writing done, insomnia sucks, but these poems lately have been deep. I've a massed 3 full journals in 3 months. All of them with the first page stating, "should I die and you all FINALLY find them
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This is how shit gets accomplished. Be real. The BFFs and I keep it real and there is never any room for a fight. We nip stuff in the bud and get back to living life pretty quickly. No games, just the rawest version of ourselves.
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I still feel sad, sometimes, because we shared so many things together. but it was for the better. Maybe she cared, maybe she didn't, but she made me so miserable at times- I couldn't fight on my own anymore.