Some days, sometimes, I wonder about those I’ve loved.
In secret or up front.
What difference does it make tonight in this unsettling thunder?
How many of them a mishap?
How many of them a mindless blunder?
How many of them have truly found what they were looking for
In someone else?
How many have gone from blond to blonder?
How many nights did I spend in this rabbit hole?
How many of them deserved all those years, all those tears?
They weren’t kidding when they said, “absence makes the heart grow fonder”.
Some days, sometimes, I wonder about those I’ve loved.
How many of them alcoholics?
Drinking away their sorrows, going under.
How many of them were actually good for me? Was it a terrible mistake to let them go? Oh, I wonder.
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Some days, sometimes, I wonder about those who’ve loved me.
How many of them were able to see the real me?
How many of them looked at the good and overlooked the bad?
How many of them were not my cup of tea?
Had I known they were going to love me until their very last breath, would I have still led them to flee?
How many of them tried so hard to please me?
Yet drowned themselves in the vast darkness that is my sea.
How many hearts have I broken?
Is it one, two, or three?
Some days, sometimes, I wonder about those who’ve loved me.
How many of them were too kind, too gentle?
How many of them were ready to take a leap of faith?
How many of them would have set me free?
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