I wouldn't mind being alone,

if I could find a way for me to not be there.

I just can't shake me.

Bled being dry dry, a weight that broke my back.

Back to an unhealthy habit(at). Back.

You know that ""message in a bottle""?

Well I had to drink to get it out.

I still can't decipher the code.

There's so much more to shout about.

I hate it when I breathe; I hate it when I'm me.

I thought I could take a break.

Don't you have more to shout about?

Is that what made us friends?

Is that what made me okay?

Is that all there was to me?

Back. And its a shame we view this as a loss of faith, or loss of trust.

We've got all this time, but we've got no lives.