will you be there just in the nick of time to catch my tears before they hit the pavement?
Ironically you are the culprit,
you confess to me as if i am the pulpit
i hate you
i leave you
i love you
try to run you over with your vehicle
but we
are to be wed around this time next year
love is temporary to permanent insanity
a trip in which
i've never been before
i suppose..