I've been trying to hide the hate
for my irate
self-loathing that I seem to demonstrate
When I finally show it it was too late.
You tried to give me your hand
your heart
your mind
The feelings I had were undefined
I shoulda said yes
I shoulda let you in
but no i was stubborn i stuck out my chin
I said no to love
said no to you
I was stuck on something that just wasnt true
yet i keep writing and it seems youre my muse
how ironic.
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