Tears trickling down,
sobs escaping my lips.
But you don’t seem to care,
not enough, not about me.

When will I stop,
this torture of believing,
that I somehow,
somehow still add up to something,
something, somehow,
that you still could care about.

Maybe the winter winds
will toughen me up.
Just maybe,
I’ll come to terms with not being needed…

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