Oh, to have a broken heart, a long lived open heart surgery and never deal with the fear of vulnerability as a weakness, but only as a statement to the glory that is your own god damned twisted soul, we’re lacking drama, lacking theatricality and sensual soft-toned pain-showcasting, wherever we go and whenever, we’re reminded to tweak it a bit enough to not show anything but robot, sick to my stomach because in my mind a heart feels and a body remembers, yet time passes and lovers grow apart, and to that, we need to pray for an alternative