Cold summer night

The night is silence
But your voice is shouting
My mind reminiscing
Your love is lacking

The night is cold
Longing of your arms
I need your heat
And your gone

The dawn is immenent
I’m dreaming of you
My eyes are crying
I’m missing you

The gleam of sunrise
Touching my face
The heat on my skin
Like the touch of your hand

The sun is born again once more
New expectation, new hope
Expecting you missing me
Hoping to see you

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The two of us in that room. No past, no future. All intense deep that-time-only. A feeling that everything must end, the music, ourselves, the moon, everything. That if you get to the heart of things you find sadness for ever and ever, everywhere; but a beautiful silver sadness, like a Christ face.

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Ah, ka-lyrra, I look at you and you make me want to live a man’s life with you. To wake with you and sleep with you, argue with you and make love with you, to get a silly human job and take walks in the park and live so tiny beneath such a vast sky.
But I will never stay with another human woman and water her die. Never.

–FROM THE (GREATLY REVISED) BLACK EDITION OF THE O’CALLAGHAN Book of the Sin Siriche Du

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I felt like a trophy child, someone he had around to show off. It felt like it was more important that his daughter was perfect-but, I was his daughter and I was neither of those things. I worked hard to get my grades, and I tried so hard to meet his expectations, but I failed. Over and over again, I fell short. I didn’t measure up. That feeling never faded.

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