The Art of Moving On

I would like to be spiteful upon hearing your name.

But the deepness of your love brings tears to my eyes and I cannot complain.

I would like to be wrought with anger upon seeing your face.

But my pains increase and decrease in an agonizing alternate.

You were everything and I am now nothing.

Begging is useless. Hoping is desprite.

I will continue on living separate.

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