It’s not what was said that continues to echo. How can you not hear all you try to ignore? You know less than you did, more than you had to. More than you care, but you do. It’s the secrets that hurt. Dishonesty devolves, day by day by day, month into month, and still no answers. Left out and longing to hear the truth, not the unsaid; unheeded, unnoticed by few. Yet, you know. For now.
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