I Am Not A Poet Who Rhymes, And It Shows When I'm Unhappy

So it always ends up this way,
We say too much, we walk away
And the cycle restarts because
we don't like to be apart
But sometimes apart is better
than together, because the sky
is always bluer in the morning
And the grass is always greener
when the clouds stop pouring
Rain all over our parade and it's
okay that we can't always agree,
if the charade is our apology,
if my pride is too sharp to swallow
And the hole the fighting makes
is too hollow to be penetrated
Because time will renevate our
relationship and we'll get the hang
of it; But no, we don't give it time
and we won't let it settle
We'll kick the dust off our words
And store them where it hurts
Because when you love someone
you know the places of their heart,
what moves, shakes, tears them apart;
I guess it's how we heal these fights
You're never wrong, I'm never right
So in the meantime
I'll stay up 'til three waiting for that
text where we pretend we're sorry
And we'll continue on this way
It doesn't matter much to me
At least, that's what I'll tell myself

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