I wondered if I should tell you for a long time.
I kept it to myself. Passed by you and told others.
I kept it till the end. The very end. Until it was nearly too late.
Why did I do that?
I told myself that it was alright, that there was nothing to be done.
But I was shaken inside.
A feeling of having done you wrong.
And so I told you, through swallow means.
Cause the more I thought about it, the more I tried to bury it,
The more it surfaced.
Telling me exactly what I didn’t want to hear,
I was selfish.

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