My love who will never be called baby agin. 

I said to her. 
"Only now, I realize what  a horrible relationship that was."
She says to me. 
"You were the only one who didn't know."

I ate four pieces of toast tonight. 
Cooked in butter.
Lathered in preservatives. 
He is too shy around me. 
So I have no problem shoving myself. 
Though I should react the opposite. 
To go to sleep hungry and powerful. 
Ah, but I smoke a cigarette.
And I say goodnight. 

What it is to truly feel nothing at every moment. 
My disappointment is present, but so weak that the bread was all I felt. 

Maybe when I'm in love [please never], I can feel some form of pain. 

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