So, she remains your every letter, your every word written.
Her love put your pen to paper, but has your story been written?
Every second gone, is a second of her you've been missing.
You remain darkened from the image of her eyes.
Eyes that cast a shadow on your mind leaving you reminiscing.
When her heart was broken, it was her heart you tried to mend.
Mend with sweet messages, and flowers you would send.
With this you thought you could hold her heart.
You fell, now you're falling to pieces.
You continue to piece together your mask, so you can play pretend.
Pretending her words don't cut your flesh like a double edge sword.
She tells you she can be nothing more but a friend.
Give it time, time heals all. Yet time passes as you slowly die.
From the wound upon your heart that seems to only expand.
So tell me, how did you think this was going to end?
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