I cannot help but to feel,
bad sometimes.
It's not your fault I promise,
And I can't help it.
And like the crashing mess and diversity of human emotion,
I can't help the way I make us feel
Stupidly apologetic, I don't want to sound like a fool,
but even through the blistering hazes of random and violent depression,
I think we're special. (and nothing can change that, nothing)
Twig

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