last night I dreamt that dream again
the one you tell me
I’m sorry, I’ve always been this way
I don’t pat you on the shoulder
and I don’t say, ’s okay, we’re friends either way
sometimes I slap you and some other times
but I never tell you is alright
I say, why are you telling me this?
and sometimes it’s you that cries
the twinge is there in the morning
I recall you smiling and then some
you never said goodbye
But neither did I tell you,
I’m the same. Unless, of course
you longed to leave out.
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