I’m the first thing you give up on when the going gets tough.
I resisted prating to you for hours on end and then my fingers slipped;
Ì reached out to you but it only brings out an endless palaver of rage.
You didn’t love me, you never did.
I thought you did and that was why i knuckle under your mastery.
But I miss you though, unheedingly.
Regardless of your ever absent requite.
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