Saturday, 16 April 2016

Accustomed.

Accustomed.

It wasn’t pain when she left.
when denial was her choice
and lies were convenience.
It wasn’t pain when she left,
because the heart wasn’t there
to feel it. Or so I thought.

But it pains now,
when you say it isn’t true.
It pains as you break me to pieces,
to smithereens.
I saw my heart beating and
it pains a lot.
But what can I do?

You know I am accustomed.

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