Everyone says that you'll come back one day
But I know you won't
Some things you just don't come back from
This move was a bullet.
You don't come back after a bullet.
All that's left is the red stain on the wall
Statistically, it'll take me 6 months to clean it.
But I heal slower than most,
My curse is that I hold on far too long.
I foolishly believe in grand gestures,
And romantic melancholy
This is my comfort zone
The longing, yearning, chasing
I'm addicted to hope
when I hold someone in my hands.
I have no idea what to do with them.
I juggle them awkward
And never dare enjoy myself.
Problem is they never know
how truly happy I am
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