Oct 01, 2007, 00.41, in my room.
“Likes me… Likes me not.”
Sometimes ‘I like you.”
Sometimes “I don’t like you.”
My heart’s already tired out.
“hey, get over it. We’re too different.”
But in most times, we’re too similar.
My brain’s already screamed out.
You got my ears, as always.
But why I never have yours?
When we talk, laughter fly.
But is it really
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