truth be told,
and i'd give anything for it not to be this way
"loves her mama's lemonade, hates the sound that goodbyes make
she prays someday, she'll find someone to need her"
but then i tell myself, it's always been this way
for years, and years
always shy, always scared, too nice, too weak,
genuine.
and i wear that smile damn well
i wish i could type what i actually wanted to type
backspace button is my closest enemy
i'll do better next time, pinky promise
i'm exhausted, goodnight

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