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Ruben

15/British/Questions I appreciate feedback and please feel free to contact me regardless of interest in my writing or vice versa. I'd really enjoy friendly conversation. I used to have an account back in 2014. Needless to say it's a bit cringy.

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  • 2 Mensajes
  • Mujer
  • 01-01-70
  • Viviendo en United Kingdom

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Ruben
Traducciones   8 años

just sick of moving forward There was once a time where I wanted to be someone. If I could go back now I'd still grow up to be me. Although I guess you could say I'm biased because it's the only me I've ever been. My eyes aren't as big as they used to be. As wide as they used to be, not duller just less suprised with the wicked workings of the world. I miss ignorance. I'm older today than I was yesterday and I guess yesterday was a better day because yesterday... I was younger than I used to be. I'm not old don't get me wrong but each day that passes gets quicker and quicker and can't grab the bar to pull this ride to an emergency stop. And it is an emergency. I'm on the brink of something bigger. Not better.

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    Ruben
    Traducciones   8 años

    and baby i dream you were mine I have someone. Who I'm meant to clasp tight to my heart. I love them. I do. But those tender lips on mine isn't a picture I see in focus. With you I can almost see sex and home. I want to hold hands with her and lean my head in her lap, looking up at her pretty face and see her smile. But I want you to lean down and kiss me. I would cheat on her for you because today I feel like cheating the uncertainty we dance around daily. And we're circling the ballroom, my head is spinning and my heart hopes when my worn feet feel numb I fall back into his arms. I want to joke with him and for him to hold me and for it to just be that simple. I have someone to have but I can't stop desire. You're a fishing hook lodging deep in ny brain, the first scar to flurry my thoughts like a hurricane. He is strings, lying loose round my arms but when he pushes that ivory down with steady fingertips my spine is aligned and suddenly I'm a puppet. She is comfortable but not in the way a duvet feels on a living room sofa but in the same way echoing footsteps through school halls resonates routine. The way a uniform becomes you and earns your pride. And I cannot choose. Not through lack of choice but fear of choosing.

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