you've torn out my picture
burn my poems
bled my love out
and stabbed your heart
just take me out
but after the picture is torn
you tape it back up..
and after the poems are burned
you gather the ash and keep them..
after you have bled
you wish you didnt..
and when my love is out of your heart
you put it back..
now i ask you
do you really love me??
or do you really hate me??
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