(no subject)

It's worn out hard, your mouth full of blood and teeth and hard-earned everything, everything, and the pulse that kept it going, kept me going, keeps me going. You wanted me to write you something, didn't you? I'm leaving it open; my vein and this, because you didn't have the word that would break my signal. Leave me something. Tell me it's good, baby, just tell me it's still good. I miss you calling me that. I miss your feedback. I miss you telling me what you wanted to do to me, that you'd been thinking about me, that I drove you crazy. You knew you'd get it back, didn't you? You always did, and I miss everything. Everything.

See? I can't get anything out. Broken record.
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