I Need A New, Clean Bandage.

I'm hurt.

Cut in too deeply.

I don't think I'll ever be able to heal anymore.

I found out something I didn't, never, but always wanted to know.

I have no mood to talk about him.

It's not his fault, I know.

But it's his fault that he's so perfect?

No.

It's not.

But still.

Huh.

):

Everytime I think of her, I think of you.

And everytime I think of you the cut opens up.

Everytime I do talk to you, you seem to pour salt on it.

Without knowing.

And everytime I see you. You tear out the bandage and spit in it. And you put it on fire.

Yeah.

You do it without knowing.
You're killing me silently.

Yes, you are.

There you are. This is what you did.

-I will never heal.