I realise I have an ability of knowing myself too well and reading others too well.
I have an uncanny ability to know when I m unwanted. Or wanted. It kinda poops me. Or rather kills me. So I tink.
So just let me die. I meant my heart.
Yes I might be reading too much but who cares. Obviously no one la.
Tonight, just tonight, let me be on my own. Rattle on and numb myself.
Come tomorrow I would be better le.
Just better than now.
Sent from Berry-White
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