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Solitary tear
burning a twisted path down a pallid cheek,
face devoid of passion, emotion,
empathy and rage.
No time to waste on questioning,
no story left to tell.
Too long I tried to fix this.
Too many sleepless nights
screaming silently in impotent despair,
too many heartbreaking phone calls.
I tried to give you what you wanted.
My best wasn't enough.
Now crushed between anger and guilt,
I stare at you three from the window,
on the outside, looking in.
A happy close-knit faction
where my love just isn't needed,
isn't enough to satisfy.
Keep your closeness, your selectiveness,
the sactity of your blood tie.
It will work no hardship on me.
I don't need your minimalist attention,
your meagre crumbs of love.
You never saw me as a person, too,
never entertained the thought
that I could break as well.
You used me to unlock her walled-up heart
and never stopped to count the cost
of broken trust.
I'm more than an extension of this family,
more han name, than flesh, than blood.
I'm not an instrument of your deceit,
nor an immature child's possession.
And you can steal away affection,
forget my very binding tie.
It's not so hard to be forgotten.
I've been growing old without you anyway.
Just answer me one question -
why wasn't it enough to just be me?
Why wasn't my love good enough?
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But I know the difference between myself and my reflection.
I just can't help but to wonder which of us do you love?
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