The difference

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I could have broken into pieces for the hell of it
If you said you would put them back together
Dreaming wouldn't be on my side if you did
I hate picturing that night, it reminds me of what I really am

I let you break me into pieces, but I liked it
It felt good putting myself back together after you failed to realize that I was yours
I'm still yours
You could have taught me the difference between making love and fucking

My nerves began to crumble
I used to think we made love that night
But you claim that all we did was fuck

If that's the case, then why did I purposely rip myself apart just so you can touch me and attempt to fix what I did
Why do I walk around trying to find hands like yours when you wouldn't even hold mine when we walked in the street

About a year ago you came back on our block and asked for me
I tried to hide out for awhile, not so you wouldn't see me, but for me to not be tempted to sneak a peek

You knocked on my door that night and asked if you could come in
I closed my door and held my tongue
I was never bold enough to say what I wanted to your face

If you're reading this, I want you to know that I still love you and the truth is
Last night I got into bed with my new lover, hoping to make love since you couldn't do that for me
And I noticed she did the same thing you once did

The next morning
I went in the living room, sat on the couch in complete darkness and silently said to myself,"Again...Damn I must've really loved how she fucked me"

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