It's always hardest to discuss what you should

and you're never guiltier than when your intentions are good

And we're held together

but my arms don't stretch so far anymore and thought the situation taunts

and the sleepless energy of a stranger scrawls random letters you avoid

the self absorbed frenzy of isolation

grief and nostalgia makes reality of myths

and turns apology into indictment

These words kill

And it makes sense that we're here

and it makes a mess to deny how far we're come

and how much further we've to fall