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The love poem sings songs of warmth and nourishment.
Feed me and I feed you.
We are one. Embraced in warmth and tenderness. We are one.
The love poem speaks of wholeness. Of completion.
The unrequited love poem wails.
It begs for warmth, acceptance, a home.
It screams our insecurities from the rooftops.
Look at me. Feel me. Want me.
The unrequited love poem burns through us like acid.
Please, oh god please, just see something in me.
It begs for worthiness. Begs to feel like we deserve to be here when deep down inside we know we can't convince ourselves of that.
See me for what I can be, not for the broken girl I am.
We fling the unrequited love poem at you. Fire it as if from a cannon.
Force it in your face.
LOOK AT ME.
But we can't make you look. I can't make you see what I want you to see.
So I take my poem and I go home.
And on the way I hope that some day I'll be able to write a love poem instead.
Because this unrequited love poem takes a new piece of me each time
And I fear I'm quickly running out of pieces to give
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