I didn't have any recipe to make this life taste more bitter than hell. Every time they ask about the you who was, I simply say "all is well". Taking steps are a lot easier when I'm higher than shit. I keep trying to force intercourse in hopes that it'll get me over it. Trying to breathe one moment and breathing fire the next is exhausting me. All this time and money on drugs and sex has become unworthy of what it's meant to be. I will justify your hateful and hurtful actions as something I deserve to endure. I'm holding on with all I can but without passion I can't say if I'll make it for sure.