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He left. I couldn’t help. He left me. Again. But did he? The anxiety. The pain. The fear. The nightmares.
I've been digging a hole Way down deep Where I can take my feelings
He grabs my hand and tells me I’m beautiful
You tell me I don't listen Do you not see MY eyes glisten? I am a sponge- taking in your every word Every little thing you THINK I haven't heard Am I supposed to create a composed answer