Tell me everything that nothing would, like a thousand cigarettes, one thousand sillhouettes that are not lit, in pockets.
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I'm small, i never shut up, i'm deep, i know how you feel before you know what you feel, i'll tell you everything i don't want you to know about me and if your still there when i'm finished then were friends and your amazing. occasionally i get bruised on poles because i can't pole dance. i'm fiery and obsessive, strong and flimsy, critical, determined, blunt and emotional, I'm a dancer though i should really keep that behind closed doors, i'm a romantic, a poetic intense hopeless romantic, though i do love a good roll round in the bushes from time to time, my equivelant to beer is having a nude cigarette in the morning. i love raw carrots, fresh cakes, wide belts, sexy hair, hats, reading a book whilst walking only to look up and see a lamp post inches away from my face. i understand more than i can say and get frustrated with my lack of succinct mind mouth translation. i'm complicated and simply impossible to follow, i'm open hearted and want you to know me, but know no words will really do my experience justice. i dream of shutting up, but dreams are invented to tease and shatter. i'm an emotional sponge, feel free to squeeze me. one day i will own a rocking chair and a room with floor to ceiling wall to wall books and a dusty piano topped with candelabras.
I'm not sexy, i'm clumsy, i'm not funny, just deluded, i don't play any instruments any more despite what i might say when i'm drunk! i make up most of the words to songs i sing and sometimes i write my own which i will tell you are good, but don't humour me, i like to dream.
my dream is a camera and a snow covered landscape a million miles away from here with a tiny cottage on the top so the descent would be breathtaking and every time i returned home i would have to struggle uphill to deserve my comfort.
i am the girl with the pin, and i keep bursting my own bubble, one day i'll learn to put it away
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