I Suppose That's The Secret,

That's When You Really Lose People, You Know.when The Pain Passes.

At The Same Time I Know That It’s Not Really Their Fault, At Least Not Completely. I Did My Part Too. I Did It On A Hundred Different Days And In A Thousand Different Ways, And I Know It. But This Makes The Anger Worse, Not Better.

If Singing Were A Feeling It Would Be This, This Light, This Lifting, Like Laughing.

Everything Ends, People Move On, They Don't Look Back. It's How They Should Be.

My Wild, Uncured, Erratic, Incomprehensible Heart.