You never really lose people
parts of them always stay with you

And it's both beautiful and sad to think
that we are all composed of pieces
from the people who broke us

and by which we are complete

I've been scribbling words about you, I haven't looked at the clock til now - it's 17 minutes past 7. I may be late for work.

I have written several nonsense letters, wondering if I already wasted more ink than I should, thinking how many of these words have you already heard, and doubting if they would mean something more once you read them.

These words, these are the things I want you to know but would never tell you.

But these words, they don't really matter, do they? These words can't make you stay, or flinch even.

Because the things you told me that matter, they didn't. And even if they did, we won't do anything about it.

These letters, they would remain unsent.

I
TOLD
YOU.

AND I AM
TELLING
YOU
AGAIN.

I AM GOING TO HOLD YOUR HEAD UP,
WHILE I HOLD YOUR HAND.

Almost
is the saddest word

It's never enough
it's quite, but not entirely
nearly, but not exactly





almost does not make
quite a difference,
does it?

See, I told you
*Nothing mattered

Funny,
fooling
myself
"we"
actually
existed