| You carry an illness
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| Practically know it by name
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| It seldom speaks for you
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| You learned to tune it away
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| But it wasn’t easy
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| Was fond of your writing
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| It allowed me to see into you
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| You hid behind the similes
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| Like fractal light in all shades of blue
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| Pebbles and mirrors
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| I’m just jealous because I tried
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| Mapping out your mind’s inconsistent ways
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| Tangled and untied
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| I watched your ends start to fray
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| You felt buried from the start, tearing you apart
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| Constricting the free beating of your heart
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| I knew your postcard would say
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| «Wish you could stay, wish you felt the same way»
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| Asked to be admitted
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| And they put a lock on your door
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| Subdued, medicated, face to linoleum floor
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| And you tried to break away, painted window panes
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| Bars behind the glass molded to the frame
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| You saw yourself in those days
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| You felt buried from the start, tearing you apart
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| Constricting the free beating of your heart
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| I knew your postcard would say
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| «Wish you could stay, wish you felt the same way»
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| I am
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| Tearing up pieces of old news
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| To mend the leaks in my open wounds
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| Protect your pressure points, I refuse
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| To press against, let yourself renew
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| Project the voice that I found for you
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| Pull up the weeds from the ground you grew
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| Feel soil under your toes, it’s you
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| You have forever
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| I felt weaker when I bent, beaten to the end
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| Folding on myself, too damaged to mend
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| I couldn’t hold all the weight
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| You felt buried from the start, tearing you apart
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| Injuring yourself dragging from my arm
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| I knew your postcard would say
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| «I know your new heart still desires to play
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| And who would I be to keep it all for me
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| Wish I could stay, wish I felt the same way» |