There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.
I don't want to go through life like my mother, afraid that I'm not really loved, even if it meant I could go through life with you.
Still, better all that hurt than to have known no pain; learnt nothing.
You always were wise beyond your years.
But dreams are like a drug: the magic doesn't last and then the pain is worse than knives.
I said I would never fall in love; I said love was a murderous thing; And it is, and I'm floating on air.