Here I stand,
Not shattered,
Not beaten,
But numb.
Numb because the pain doesn’t hurt anymore like it should.
The pain and misery all turned numb.
Yet here I am, at some point, going in circles:
He loves me,
He loves me not,
He loves me,
He loves me not,
Why can’t I finish this,
Why can’t I have peace of mind,
Why can’t the numbness flee and let the pain return,
Maybe it’s because deep down there’s finality,
Finality that brings end to the chaos that once was,
Chaos that you created,
Created in the hopes that you’ll drive me away,
Only to draw me in,
In on this pathetic feeling that I can’t shake simply because of these three words that have eight letters but carry weight no one can fathom.
“I love you.”
Maybe love is a pun,
a pun intended for those who feel indebted to others,
Others who feel obligated to act in favor of others,
Maybe love is true,
But where is mine?!

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