This? This is the ultimate walk of shame.
Past the colors on the wall I know so well, the letters that spell my regret, my humility.
I stumble, halting steps toward turning tables.
Now I'm the waiting one.
Story carefully crafted, questions already answered.
I lift my heavy eyelids at ragged breathing- I don't belong here.
I don't belong here, but I'm too afraid to leave and too ashamed to not be alone.
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