I don’t like to see you intoxicatingly yourself. Building toxins and layers and layers and layers and layers. I die a little each time. Each time I see you, it breaks my heart…to see like this. I know your try. But what hurts the most, is when ‘if I had been there a minute earlier ‘,’if we never had the conversation ‘,’if you never waited for me ‘….then you would never have gone to intoxicate yourself, and I wouldn’t have to suffer this agogny again.
….porque.
No words can describe the guiltyness of how I feel, that I make you do such a thing?!
….porque
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