That august 17th, 2h30am. My hands on your shoulder, I'm begging you piety.
I threw your love away when you needed the most because I was insecure to feel it in my soul.
You say we must pass through a time to balance our reasons but there's no reason at all. Maybe you must let go through a half-less love, but we should know: there's no half-less love at all.
We could agree to take care of each other. We could dry this cynicism around us - and it's late. Soon I can disappear from myself and disappear from your heart.
We should know there's no half-less love around and we insist feeling it.
