sweet talkings are honey to the ears.
the truth hurts like blades piercing into the heart.
uncertainty leaves one's thought hanging.
sensitive, the nature of all women.
unsecure, the worst one could feel.
misunderstanding is the last thing one would want it to happen.
i am nothing but just another woman.
physically strong but emotionally weak.
which woman isn't?
in the lonely nite the eyes stared wide opened.
thru the nite it finally shut closed,
and the nite ended with tears.
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