personal · thoughts

Maybe

you give yourself
wearing your heart on your sleeve,
a love that you pick
from your pockets like a thief;

where does it all go?
no love comes back you know, 


you turn empty slowly,
afraid of things, you can’t keep track,
knowing what you give freely
you most certainly will never get back; 

but every single time,
some part of you starts
believing:  

maybe this time it will work
maybe this time they won’t leave me.

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