This week or last week, I don't really care about it anymore. I write myself this later, I tell myself you let me go.

I close my eyes I make myself unhappy so you'll go. Without me, oh what's wrong with you?

I have always felt this
And I, I could never hear it
So I turned it up
And turned it on
And turned it down
Always the volume always the words

I don't feel anti-love. I feel suspicious of love, and I feel suspicious of what it means to be in love. And I also feel suspicious of what it means to feel pretend love for someone.

Love pull your sore ribs in. I will pull your tangles out.

I know I'll hold this loss in my heart forever. I know I'll hold, I'll hold. I know.