poor Thing*

I don’t know if I’m rushing anything at this point, or has my patience lost its voice.

love is kind a tender; yet, I am emotionally distressed; the man that I love doesn’t render, I am depressed…

I love entirely too hard; never knew that reciprocation could be the challenging part!

must I slit my wrists, and give my life? just for you to be assured that I was chosen to be your wife.

I thought you was Romeo, and I was Juliet; oh how the tables feel turned, soon they’ll be a dead silence…

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