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The truth ran free-
                       I'm sorry,
I'm not saying we'll meet again

Never dream of the edge of death-
                       I'll always forget regretting the story.
My life lives me.
Your words hurt just as much as your actions,
I don't know what you're trying to do,
All this love I have for you,
You just want to break it in two,
Do you even care if I hurt?
I'd never hurt you,
If I'm really not what you want,
Then just say we're through,
Really, must you torture me like you do?
I've never asked anything of you,
I've just loved you unconditionally,
Then you dare come to me,
Saying it's all a lie,
If I'm lying to you,
Why have I been here since the start?
You make me seek out sharp Dixon Ticonderoga pencils
with thick dollops of pink cream on their tops,
to write in the smudged lead;
as words dance across starchy parchment,
smeared by more than the base of my hand.

I want to see the thin, bold lines of black ink
from a satisfactory pen;
loop and curve into the twisting characters of your name.

I want a sharp pencil, and a good pen.
One in each hand;
to clear my mind.
What would you say if I took my own life?
Would you ignore me then like you ignore me now,
would you sit down and cry?

What would you do if you saw me lying on the bed.
Drenched in a pool of red sticky mess,
lying down where I had bled.

Would you come to a conclusion,
that you loved me like before.
Or would you turn around and walk on out,
because I mean nothing to you anymore.

Would you remember how my hands felt,
wrapped around your waist.
Would you remember how we'd hold each other,
always feeling safe.

And then would you think of how you left me,
to hurt all on my own.
Never sending a kind word my way,
never picking up your phone.

Would you regret cancelling plans,
or fighting on that one day.
Would you regret leaving everything unsaid,
would you have anything to say.

Would you kiss my cold forehead,
like I kissed yours once warm.
Would you feel like your whole world was crashing around you,
can you feel your heart being torn.

Would you realize that I loved you,
always putting you before.
Would you realize that you loved me too,
and wish you'd given more.

I think of all these scenarios that go on through my head.
The saddest part about it all is you wouldn't care if I were dead.
I've lost direction
Moss on both sides of the trees
I plead the way home
My swing
        tire swing
Island of joy in a melting land

Swing, swing
        my tire swing
Carry all away from this wasted land

My swing
        I tire, swing
My only refuge, barren land
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