Stick Around

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Sometimes I wonder why they stick around.

They’re there on the nights I isolate myself and don’t make a sound.

They’re there when all I can do is cry

And for some reason they don’t pry.

I love those who check in on me when they don’t even know

I’m falling apart on the inside but sometimes it’s best to put on a show.

Pretending is better than explaining what’s going on in your head.

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