We’ve got so much more than history,
Feelings that we can’t deny that
Were once there.
Wishing I was a part of something that never existed
Is just a side effect of growing up.

I find no motivation in things I like
Because the only one I ever really liked was you.
When we traded feelings and flipped 180°
I came to realize that I
Was my own con artist.
Funny how they call them artists,
Like they make something beautiful.
I guess symmetry can be beautiful
But so can dissonance.

Maybe we’re just seconds
Like leftovers
And sour chords
And bases that we’ll never get to.


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