A sudden epiphany, clearing my mind:
I am not at all stuck in sadness, I'm spent.
I am angry, the pure definition of a cynic
Because we'll never work out and haven't yet.
And this realization, it's been unfair.
And these dreams I have aren't leaving.
I still desire you with my entire being,
I want you close to hold me still.
Our hearts and words are entwined...
But the timing is always wrong,
And one of us is always long gone.
Others surround us, repeatedly halting.
So if I can't have you, I'll have nothing.
I'd rather rot alone than without wings.
The thought of you -- my heart still sings,
Preventing me from truly loving...
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