by Enya Smilovic
Insanity is doing the same thing twice,
But I did it three times.
Exposed four words to you,
Receiving not one in return.
Spent five years hoping,
The sixth my funeral;
Not even seven guests.
Eight times I'd begged for you back
For you to say no nine times.
I used to be your perfect ten,
Sometimes an eleven, your heaven on earth.
Twelve steps to recovering,
But the thirteenth is falling in love again.
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