last time we spoke
words weren't clear,
covered in haze or smoke
and untrue to the ear.
but things hardly seem right
when spoken out of spite,
we were so tired that night
to go and take the bite.
in here we make the stand
staring at each other,
afraid to move a hand
and make it all over.
silence won't be broken,
alone.
the words to be spoken
are your own.
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