Too late, too late, juice pouring does not a kind soul make, and I killed you.
Whatever happened to me just now has gotten to me, broken past the fragile shell I've built. More than my memory is gone. My soul has wings that beat to a heart I don't understand and I see things, feel things that I know aren't from here, but that are so real.
I don’t think I could have picked a worse guy to be my soul mate.
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