my broken heart broadcasted, blogged, blastedon the internet my wreckage for all to view, favorite and bookmark and the pain still lives in my stomache in the body no text characters or media files could fill that void my emotions are not emoticons a :) may be ironic but it will never replace my memory of smiling while I was in his presence and :-* won't replace the taste of his mouth stupid feeling messy complicated flesh world my 2000 friends aren't really here to open their arms and pull me close and tell me everything is going to be okay he won't post a sign when did he link to her instead? yet I continue to publish my shattered ego over and over again read in several continents i'm sure they'll love me more for it but he won't his flesh and blood self is tangled in her real arms while I send my messages off to be read from afar I just want to be touched again really touched not poked or messaged or emailed touched I want those arms to be mine and the tangles to wrap me up

he said he wanted his freedom, but gave me mine instead his freedom was only from me the man who related more to his machine than my body is using his body to heal and i'm left with my machine

[tara hunt feb 17 08]

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