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There were nights
when you threw angry words
like bullets, in pure temper.
Damages done, acts of malice,
with no hope for pulling them back,
swallowing the words,
and healing the hurt.
Time passes with strained feelings,
forced smiles and bruised egos.
Each unwilling to be the first
to admit fault.
You wonder to yourself
what it’ll take, what will happen
to bring you back together.
But you’re so blinded by pride.
Pure and bitterly stubborn.
And time just keeps on passing.
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