dear delilah








Fathers, be good to your daughters; daughters will love like you do.

you are the strength and the weight of her world

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Stream her with roses and daisies, dear mother,
let all that she speak be all that that she hears.
For no higher, no higher let her forehead doth grow;
and so dote, dote my mother, my mother so dear
and let her run free with a conscience so clear


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Monday, 4 June 2007
You are so ketchupy aggravating

The walls are spinning. Nothing is on my walls, not anymore. Not the scent of your shoulder, the ring of your voice. I need you so much now.

I'm sorry. You have spoilt me. Or perhaps, my needs are of that magnitude. Its self-torturous, it is.

YOU will not get hold of me. I will not let you. I will face these memories head on, and show you. I will not fall twice.

he told me that I've done alright
and kissed me till the morning light