you were the one who pointed out it was easy to burn down all the bridges to the ones we loved best so we could care less. i dont know why i thought i could be anything but kindling to that flame. i dont know why i thought that. all we've got left's xerbittert on mixtapes & love letters i wrote for you. i dont recognize my handwriting in those anymore. ive got a space in my bed that you will never try to fill. when you called to tell me you missed me from indiana or somewhere midwest, south of here, i guess i should have answered, huh?
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