From me, what?

It is so heavy.

It is so deep.

So don’t tell me to calm down.

Perhaps you are still blind.

But I felt only misery.

My entire heart was the one in agony.

It was I that bore the consequences.

While as you ran scott free.

How be it can the one that thrust the knife say “oh it hurt not.” Or decree the deepness of my pain.

So don’t ask me, to fill our ill fated past with luxury of pleasant words.

Far from it I obhor the day I met you.

Because when it comes to you dear.

I don’t want you near.

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