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He Writes To Me

I feel the tar like ground on my feet, I’m being swept with the tide of all these thousands all dreaming about the moment they sigh and say they are home. My home is far behind, after all I just left it behind. Why am I going away, further away from you? Your hands are still warm in mine, the cold can’t touch me. Whenever we part, I feel like death, because being with you feels like the truest definition of life.

When someone touches your soul it’s not good or bad, it’s like a punch in the stomach without the pain- it’s breathtaking and I needed to breathe, not away from you but with you. I needed to touch your face to feel how real you are again and how I feel we are shaping a future without trying…merging ideas and feelings, feeding off each other’s energy and making…

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