How naturally, after all these years, we forget to speak -
And compose crytpic lyrics to avoid feeling disconnected.
Are we too evasive, hidden inside these deep, deceitful shells?
I am filled with discarded conversations,
yet they think I am resilient - or forgetful.
Ironic, isn't it?
I can hardly breathe from the weight of what I recall -
But you miss the point so easily,
And we become disillusioned.

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