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you were the water in my lungsyou were like stones tiedaround my ankles, and ididn't notice thatyou were holding meunder the waves until icrashed through the surface.(compared to the greyhaze in your world, things up hereare technicolor.)
not anymorenothing i could dowas ever good enough foryou, but what i wasdoing wasn't wrong.who needs friends that make you feellike crap anyway?
i'm too optimistic latelythe world is uglyand broken and cold, but ido not think that thereis anything thatcould ever feel happieror more beautiful.