it makes me wretch inside
to see "dear" addressed to you
to hear her say,
in type,
"your love is to heavy,"
no wrong have you done.
you need someone to love.
you
chose me.
and i ran- pushed
you away.
"your love is to heavy,"
no-- not from me.
I was too scared
of being left
of being unhappy
till my fears fell through
cut to truth--
became reality.
no longer do i pretend i can Know you-
you do not know yourself,
or,
do you?
can anyone know a person
when we are
constant
change?
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