a little weak, weaker I get.
the more you're away
the more I fret
a little strong, stronger I'll be
if you were here,
to stand by me
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"There wasn't much that she could do about not being loved.She looked deep into her hollow eyes, the mirror felt tired.She held herself tight and cried.For hours, for days, for weeks.But there wasn't much she could do about not being loved"
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And blah and blah.This is what jealousy does to me.