“I would have preferred if you had loved me less, and understood me more.”
Margarita Karapanou
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“I would have preferred if you had loved me less, and understood me more.”
Margarita Karapanou

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“Intense love always leads to mourning.”
- Louise Glück
I shall sing and sing until there are no notes left. Every imaginable song, every chord, every major and minor key. To lament is to sing yourself dry, to cast every breath to the wind to appease someone else's ears.
I will sing. And you will mourn to learn the song is not for you, but for myself.
The beginning
Remember, remember the fifth of May when we celebrated our freedom in confinement and tried to escape our house made of windows, just to end up trapped in the garden of Eden. Where we first met, all exposed, praying to some false God. Offering Them the bloodstain on your shirt and my dress woven from sunrays.
Weeks passed and that bloodstain grew, as did our companionship. My dress now more luminous than ever; your world rotating in my orbit. I was your sun in the mids of winter. But when autumn arrived your eyes like spring set my garden abloom.
And we buzzed like bumblebees in our little hive. Drunk on gooey sticky honey and hypnotised by the collective humms and drums of our beating wings. Unknowingly we capitulate to each others serpentine stings.
i. I've always felt undesired and in a way I needed you to remind me I never really was. I've been hard and cold and self reliant. But I longed to be soft, tender and perhaps somewhat meek. I needed you to make me feel mascara smeared and rose cheeked.
ii. I've always longed for absolute chaos. I needed to tiptoe barbed wire, taunt faith, or whatever. You know? Bathe in the pond of utter disarray. And there you were my blue eyed vortex. My sleepless nights and endless days; my everlasting summer rain.
iii. I've always missed being a child. To euphorically jump in puddles or have someone wrap a giant bath towel around me after I crawl out of the pool. For a moment I thought you were that someone, the warmth of a fresh towel. But it happened you were my pool. You were my puddle. You were the snowflake on my tongue. You were my elated fun.

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“I was already complete
when I met him. He just filled my life with so much color, to go on without him seemed absurd.”
- (B.D.)
“I suppose I love this life,
In spite of my clenched fist”
- (C.B.)
“I’m not hungry, I’m not full. I’ve starved myself of you for so long, I dont want to even begin to imagine what you taste like.”
- (C.B.)