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Stella Chalampalaki
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Let it go
How could I ever start to write again ? Writing is supposed to help you ease the pain but if you can't survive it then how can you ever decide to write? I get to my laptop and even though I have a storm of words tangled together into nasty clouds inside my ...

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You and me, yet never us
You; one corpse filled with feelings.  Me;  a creased letter.  Creased, like our last night when we burnt in fire. Fire, like the one that sparkles in your eyes. Your eyes know how to crush mine.  Oh, how many times my throat had been hurt,  by the edgy wor...

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Gone days
Days like these I can't help but run back to my childhood. Back when life seemed to be so easy, so natural almost like the breath is to the lung. I don't know how the recall of the past started. I don't know what I was looking at or what scent had awaken up...

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I am not a graceful person
I am not a graceful person. I am not a Friday evening or a Saturday night.  I am a Tuesday 2am.  I am not a song of beauty or a lullaby.  I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks.  And my body is not the place one can call "home",  for I am a broken windo...

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Letters to the one I've loved
8 November 19... Dear Stranger, I am writing you for not a specific reason. In fact, regarding to these matters there's hardly ever a reason. It's quite funny that we make better strangers than anything else in this world. I am not even sure if you remember...

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To someone I used to know.
"You think you've seen her naked  because she took her clothes off ?  Tell me her dreams. Tell me what breaks her heart.  What is she passionate about and what makes her cry ?  Tell me about her childhood. Better yet, tell me one story about her that you ar...

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It's not about you
"Darling we are silhouettes, scientists state our bones are from the stars;  Scientists our bodies are from the ocean. How is it that we're oh-so ddifferent,  while we all seem oh-so the same ?  You and me, we're train wrecks waiting to happen; but darling,...

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