The Brown Eyed Dreamer

'Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.' William Wordsworth

Eccentricities of Intimacy

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How strange it is to miss
The sense of skin I never felt,
Hands that only lay shy and
Never once interlocked.
How strange it is to hear
Words that were never said
But hung on jagged hooks-
Only silence between us.
How strange it is to want
Somebody when I know
Nobody who wants to be
With anybody.

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Author: thebrowneyeddreamer

Teenage girl from the mysterious, rainy land of Northern Ireland, obsessed with music, France and movies. I like to write books and poetry when I can get my head out of the clouds.

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