Oh, I'm giving up. The one I love. I'll conduct the great disaster. To scar my skin, to own this hurt. . They offered their hearts and we tore them apart.
I'm paranoid and sick of this. World's misconception of things I did. My language poured across this wrist. In a metaphoric disaster. . My guess, I'm missing out the punch line.
You were all that we needed. To believe in our doubt. The hurt we allowed. We had sworn to believe them. And scattered across our memories found. . You were all that we needed.