M a y b e

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Maybe I thought you loved
me when actually, you did not.
But truthfuly, I did love you,
though you did not.

Maybe I was the fool and you were
the trickster. But now each time
I think of you my heart gets bitter.

Maybe its supposed to hurt like this
before the wounds could heal.
Then I guess before that day comes
—every ache I have to feel.

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