Are you Bent on making me Cry? Do you Even realize what you do; how you make me Feel? God, I doubt you even ever Hear me. I could talk to a wall and get Just as much acknowledgement. Keeping my mouth open or closed, you couldn’t care Less. My chest hurts, but No one can know but you. Oblivious would be an understatement, Perfect would be a lie, but Quite frankly no one is. Reality Sucks, just like how much Time we’ve left Unformed. Very rarely do we really talk, but We always connect, Xcept when I lose you. You’re gone a lot, not here, Zoning out—its no wonder you don’t realize how much more you mean.
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