there was a time i wrote my heart out
i bled upon those pages
like Sisyphus - an exercise in futility -
much like him, i tried for ages
too long after i had met you
slowly creeping into 2009
somewhere in there i realized
that you were never mine
hindsight being what it is
driving alone down the interstate
everything that i loved was missing
i realized it a little to slow, and entirely too late
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