I think you know, and I never will,
What's going on in your mind so still
And not. You just can't open up, that's fine -
I've told you what exists in mine.
I wonder sometimes if you know it all too loud.
But know this too, and I'm not proud
That I'm saying this, but I lost my pride
When I let you in and you let yourself slide,
As slick the years-abandoned edge of a kitchen knife,
Back out of my DMs, if you will, out of my life
You changed in the course of a few days - Well,
I'm grateful for the Heaven that you made into H*ll.

When I die... I'm not going to die, that's old news,
You couldn't try, or do, or fix, or choose -
You loved me because I was my own woman,
And you maybe couldn't deal with that, man,
Either. But know this - I remember what it is, now,
To wear lipstick and my hair up, though I recall how
You loved me natural. I remember what it is to be courted,
Though you gave me enough of that, and we thwarted
Jealousy, you and I. I remember what it is to smile,
Though I blushed in your sight in a way that I'll
Maybe never blush again. Just to say, Benya, I loved you,
But I also now remember what it is to love myself, too.