When the silence has nothing but itself
To fall on and break,
The heart already torn has nothing to do
But increase the stakes;
The die is cast, what is beneath is shown;
Now there is nothing left that can be mourned.

Perhaps a bittersweet understanding
Of all that was said;
The other opinion, after all,
Might as well be dead.
There is nothing now to be felt or proved…
Perhaps to find if I was ever loved?

I glean so much in such little time:
That such strength was me,
That so much of belief can be let go
With love’s vanity;
Life makes itself a cage to make you see,
It’s only you who can set yourself free.


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