Perhaps it is my fault. Do i bother you so? Then you should tell me, or else I won’t know. Do i talk to much about my dreams and my fears, To the point where you really no longer care?
I Love You. That Much Is True.
But Dear God; Don't Ever Let Me Become you.
It can't have been easy. I know that much. With no one to love. No one to trust.
I keep clinging to every last memory,
And my sentimentality is slowly killing me,