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Don’t bother making things right
I pull myself away slowly never mentally,
A giant rift seems to hold on.
It’s like clinging on the edge of a cliff face,
But my arms not that strong.
Like I’m tied above my bed with iron links,
Searching for your gleeful face in the dead black sky.
Thinking you’d be the one who would help me,
But you were the one to cut the rope.
Yet you wonder why I’m so slow to trust,
Why my true identity is never shown.
While you stand there with your weapon,
Slashing my bloody wings.
You don’t see the tears I cry at night,
Alone beneath my sheets.
You don’t know how close I’m coming,
To admit my final defeat.
And if you ever learn the pain you beseeched upon me,
If you ever learn to care.
Don’t bother trying to make things right,
Because I’ll never be there.
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