(They said we were far too young).
Revisiting scripts, the words I wrote, the promises I broke, the lines I crossed, the chords I scrabbled with, the bruises I hid away, from you, from me, from the world. It hurts me. It hurt(ed) you. There is nothing I want to do more than to take everything back, shove it into a hole and bury, bury, bury...until the sun was purple and nothing you could say could make me remember, not you say, those things, not that, I'm complaining. It's not that. It's in my heart. And you don't understand, maybe, that nothing can bring me there again, to where I hurt(ed) you. Where the universe was taking a nap. Naps are nice. Naps on you. Like a cat. Like a lion. Pet me, purr. Bless, the, dawn, someone, reach, out, branches.
Touching me, with your branches, in a nest, on that branch, where you branch(ed).
When you...when I...why didn't it...why did I...
Well, I'll wait now.
Heart on my sleeve.
And it was harder than we dreamed, but I believe that's what the promise is for.
(They said we were far too young).
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