even though I won't stop chewing on the sides of my mouth
and ideas are perfectly idealized and not followed through
and i can cry harder than any blusterous baby
about now, and then, and what happens next
about leaving and being twenty two
and jokes over sweet singing acoustic electric
"please like us, we like you"
our voices fade into the distance
and it's the last thing we'll ever do
and assure me we'll never die
please can we be our initials in that tree?
just say, just please
i love you and you love me.
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