The Question

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After all this time, the question is the same,

But first I want to know, when did you start playing that wicked game?

How did you not see me getting hurt?

By the way, are your eyes still covered in dirt?

I am sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?

Wasn’t it all so fun, cruel, and laughable?

Weren’t you feeding me a goddamn lie?

Did you chock me out of my goddamn mind?

Don’t worry I can answer it for you: Yes,

After all these years I am still a mess.

After all this time I can’t let go of the pain, the anger, the hatred.

After all, that was one helluva betrayal.

I don’t know how to not feel low.

I don’t want to LET. IT. GO.

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