---

Better comes so slowly,
almost you forget
you'll have no regrets.
You'd been looking
at the pages,
you could read them, but not yourself,
not yourself now, not yourself now.

Letters written slowly
so you don't forget
the last thing you confessed.
You'd been looking
in the mirror,
you could see her but not yourself,
not yourself now, not yourself now.

Days were faring well,
the things you could not tell.
Dazed with atmosphere,
you thought you'd find her here,
but not yourself now, not yourself now.

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