I can't stop myself from saying the things I don't want to say. I had all the love in the world for you, and now it returns back to me misshapen and covered in pain, unable to fit back into the box it escaped from. So I sit here and wait for something new, as it all hits me over and over, and I can't help but wonder why I repeat my own tragedies, while you ignore that we ever existed. 

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