Everything I thought I knew, I didn't.
Everyone I thought would come around in the end, they did.
still in the end I'm left wishing things would be different.
Somehow different.
And I know now that I'm not happy unless I'm sad inside, dying and wishing you well.
"For some reason I'm not content unless something's a little off" she said, 3am on the stairwell.
Our lives, for some reason they intertwine like graphing lines on a practical plane.
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