these little talks of ours are getting repetitive
i repented on the floor of my brothers bedroom
i repented on a busride on my own at 1am
in the ibuprofen pills locked away somewhere

these talks are seeming less like talks
and more like tradition
there is no hope in me left to question
if im being honest here
(and ive always been)
the line between help and harm
is very blurry right about now

maybe ive accepted what has come to be
that only of us is coming out alive
and it wont be me

ive only one question left
and its important
what the hell did you get out of this?
cause ive lost everything