would I end up alright?

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the way I pursued you to be mine, I've conditioned my mind
into believing it's normal to keep elements of the anguish inside
whenever I'm left alone—a phone hangs up on the line,
a heart loses its capability to distinguish if one is being set aside

everyone cancels out one side after getting a glimpse of our fight
in hindsight, I keep a promise to myself that the aftermath is fleeting
I'm asking myself, "would I end up in a place where I'd be alright?"
in due course, a closure isn't needed, and a heart will stop bleeding

ending nights with analyzing unsaid words and taking medications
questioning every occurrence while enduring all the complications
a friend told me to not rekindle what was before after the implications
yet, why am I at the same old place after we had cut all communications?

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