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Every word that I speak,
I have to censor,
Can’t let him know how I feel,
What secret pains and cuts me,
Every day- in my heart.
When I open my eyes in the morning,
In school,
On the weekend and every weekday,
And when the sun sets behind the skyscrapers,
I have to think of him,
And every time I take another knife to my heart.
I revel in all the small and insignificant moments,
When our hands touch,
When he hugs me,
And my body seems to melt and burn at the same time,
But I have to remind myself of the truth.
His heart is already with another,
Even though he never mentions her,
Even though he says that he doesn’t know how he feels about her- truly,
I cannot take that spark of hope,
And turn it into a bonfire.
A bonfire could turn into a forest fire,
Which would kill everything in its wake,
Just like this unrequited love kills me,
But no tears come,
My eyes are like dry wells in the Sahara.
Crying doesn’t equal pain,
For I do not cry,
But feel every strand of my heart being cut up,
Being ripped out of my body,
And getting thrown in the garbage can.
I do not blame him,
For he never asked me to love him,
He never wanted me to get hurt.
The question remains: What if he knew?
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