i think i needed to hear
that you’re human.
that you feel.

i’m spilling my guts here
and finally i feel like
you’re not being
fucking fake
for my sake.

or maybe for yours,
because i walk a line
with my heart in hand,
ready to hand it to you,
far too easily.

i’ve not mistaken you
for someone you’re not;
i’ve just mistaken you
for someone you’re not
to me.

at least,
i want you to be,
even though i know
you can’t.

you can say,
it’s all good,
but it’s not.

my heart’s an orphan,
and i’m too old
to adopt.

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