Why am I writing love poems to you without sending them your way? Why can I not let go of you five years down the line? If anything, why am I getting more inclined to you? Why am I becoming this artistic when it comes to you? It's not like we have a soul tie, or do we? At this point I can't explain If you so happen to know nothing about this, then I promise you I know no better And if you're in the dark then I promise I'm in the middle of a thousand midnights, Mi Amor
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