November 21, 2009
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If I were to finally go to sleep
have my aching problems lie to death
I would have to say I would only regret
loving you unlike all the rest

You've broken my heart once, twice
and you have no idea that you've won
I've made a habit of attempting to please
only to fall asleep with the rising sun

So I bind my wounded heart
I choke its pulse in a noose of gauze
I promise myself things will get better
even when I know that it will not

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