But i Iove you.
your heart its been shattered before,
its been rooted down to the floor.

your eyes have been through galaxies of oceans and tears.
you hate the voices and shadows, they make you fear, they want you to hear
them.

i can tell you, my love, that i don't deserve anything, except the cursed things and objects. Don't everyone? We dance to music that sells our souls, and talk the talk that kills the heart, and widens the hole.

I love you.
And i don't care if you are "mean", or bad, or a nightmare living in your own mirror.
Because, doesn't true love see all the mess, and scars, and yet, love the same?
I don't want to drive you insane, but I love you.
.
.
.
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