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I lend everyone my ear,But nobody my heart,And I sure would like to change that,But I don't know where to start,I smile more to myself,Than the world will ever see,Because the only time my smile is real,Is in my own company,People don't know how I feel,They never even ask,It seems I have fooled them all,They can't see past my mask,If they were with me late at night,When the world was still asleep,Maybe I'd let them sort,Through the secrets that I keep,But when I wake at 2am,Nobody is ever there,And I learnt that why I hide my heart,Is because no-one really cares.
Erin Hanson
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I lend everyone my ear,But nobody my heart,And I sure would like to change that,But I don't know where to start,I smile more to myself,Than the world will ever see,Because the only time my smile is real,Is in my own company,People don't know how I feel,They never even ask,It seems I have fooled them all,They can't see past my mask,If they were with me late at night,When the world was still asleep,Maybe I'd let them sort,Through the secrets that I keep,But when I wake at 2am,Nobody is ever there,And I learnt that why I hide my heart,Is because no-one really cares.

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You know what I love? The spaces between I love you. The tap of your fork against the plate and how my cup of wine clicks against our table. The scratchy voice coming from the radio in the other room. The quiet sound of your hand reaching across the table and whispering over mine. How your voice sounds like your mouth on the back of my neck. The soft murmur of our easy conversation.Between these quiet Tuesday night routines, following every comma and right after every pause for breath, is I, love, and you. In the middle of every I love you is a sink full of dishes, whisper of socked feet tangled in white sheets, and gentle kisses against curved cheeks. We lyric ourselves into the laundry that needs to be finished, into the ends of every smile that follows me repeating your name. We write ourselves into the grocery bags we need to carry, the cracks running up our rented walls, the sides of the bed we choose to drag up the sails of heavy eyed dreams.Like the spaces between our fingers, in the spaces between I, love, and you, we wait.The in-betweens have always been my favorite.

MK
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Ugly People Beautiful Hearts