Is there a name
For this hole in my chest?
Whom do I blame;
And whom do I lay rest?
With every man, every boy
I realize and it makes me sick;
I am nothing like my mother.
Is it a curse? Or some cruel trick?
For every star in the sky,
There is a pause in my heartbeat.
And surely when I die,
I’ll be standing upright on my feet.
There are millions of other boys and girls,
But I’ll always want you, as my sorrow unfurls.
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