Comical how this heart of mine,
Has gotten used to anguish entwine,
It anticipates the ache,
And then it primes to weep and cascade.
It’s hard when your heart is soft,
It’s tough when your gut’s in a rut,
Change they say is always good,
Then why does it feel like a casualty unto.
The more I hate goodbyes,
The more I get to say them,
The more I hate tears,
The more I get to release them.
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