"It's not a big deal," I keep telling myself.
I know that I'm wrong, but i stick it on a shelf
Back behind dust and cobwebs of old.
Yet it's forefront in my mind
Big and bright and bold.
It doesn't seem bad, a good thing in fact.
But at the same time, i feel i've broken a pact.
One that I've never made, but i know is there.
Pne that says that these feelings are not small or mere
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