yet i still love him

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    yet i still love him

    im crying for my boyfriend
    im dying inside
    im losing my mind
    i just want to hide
    hes not the kind you can talk to
    and he wont let me talk to you
    so i stay blue
    yet i still love him
    i want to be with him for the rest of my life
    but still i slice my wrist with a knife
    now im bleeding
    now is when im needing him most
    but he just yells
    and puts me through hell
    yet i still love him
    i've given up all my rights
    as a woman as a person
    in all aspects of life
    i let him control me
    i cant believe hes got such a hold of me
    i've lost myself
    i feel like a doll he plays with
    then places back upon a shelf
    yet i stll love him
    i have become so numb
    to myself to the world
    and everything in it
    i know if i stay this way
    in the end ill regret it
    its time to take back my life
    and this i will not think about twice
    i want to feel
    i want my feelings to be real
    its time for my to call up the devil
    and break our deal
    bow my head
    on the floor i kneel
    i pray to let go of all my fears
    in a new direction
    my life i want to steir

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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