it was never going to easy.

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unrequited love,

like a thorn

of a rose, 

pierces

through my heart.


unwilling 

to remove

because of the pain 

that comes with

creating 

a wound.


unwilling

to just forget

because of the pain

that comes with

leaving it

unattended. 


but then i realize 

that 

there will be scarring

either way,


that 

it will hurt 

so disproportionately

at first ,


that 

it will not

disappear overtime,

but merely

decrease in impact

until 

its existence

merely exists—


until 

its existence

is accepted

as only 

a part of me

and not 

all of me. 












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