"i think you want to leave."
"i want to stay."

"leave."

a female's logic is like no other -
it's like dividing 0 by purple.

but i felt something,
and it all came together.

"i don't want to die alone."
"neither do i, but i have to go."

my logic is frustrating at best -
like dividing 0 by sheet metal.

and every agreement i ever made
imploded on itself.

the villain hath no limit
when the victim has pride.

or the other way around...

i will dance on eggshells,
waiting for redemption.

but she'll rise from the earth,
and drag me to Hell first.

and i'll finally find a place to call home.

because i'm adaptable.