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firsts first

where'd you go?

don't come home

because slowly I'm fading away

and I'd like to die if that's okay

I guess this was never really my thing

and love isn't really my thing

between all the words you never spoke

and all the words I never wrote

well we could make something beautiful

but anything aside from an argument's a miracle

I think you're better off gone

and I'd rather be alone

if I wrote you a hundred notes

and made you read every last one

well I don't think you'd get the hint

but you never knew what my words meant

I mean what's easy for you,

stepping on people to cross the room?

maybe it's best you stay away

you're a filthy rag atop a bouquet

there's no way I could possibly depict

all the pain you inflict

so I guess this isn't really your thing

and love was never really your thing

I'll just sleep off your departure

and awake with your memory a blur

would that lure you back dear?

long enough for me to yell "get out of here!"?

long enough to see my craze?

or are you forever lost in a phrase?

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b
Written by
brianna-marie
American
Published
Jul 20, 2010
Lines·Words
30·198
Permission

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