The reason I bring you down, saying things like, โLeave me alone.โ, is because hurting you at regular intervals allows the darkness to pull me in.
Amid light so bright itโs been overexposed, I canโt quite make you outโฆ
The place known as despair exists beyond our imagination โ nothing more than a deep, deep, blacknessโฆ a tiny little place from which I can manage to not miss the tiny light that is you.
But faced with kindness, Iโll grow weak againโฆ Iโll end up wishing for you to, โLove me.โโฆ Iโll end up yearning for you to say, โYouโre not alone.โ!
Taking strong measures under the impression this mustnโt be allowed, Iโm doing all kinds of foolish thingsโฆ And once I do away with the parts of me that are honest, Iโll lose track of who I even was.
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Donโt the words โI love you.โ, and morning kisses, become nothing more than salutations once we grow used to them? But amid days that shine so bright theyโve been overexposed, weโre unable to noticeโฆ
The place known as despair produced a synergy that reminded me; Mere recollection seems to be achieving an afterimage effect:
Open your eyes, And youโll be in tears before this โpresent timeโ. That nostalgic phrase: โLove me.โ will be something you long for.
Because youโre here, Iโm still just as weak as I was beforeโฆ I can even honestly wish for you to, โLove me.โโฆ And I come to the conclusion that, โIโm happy like this.โ
The reason I bring you down, saying things like, โLeave me alone.โ, is because hurting you at regular intervals allows the darkness to pull me in.
Amid light so bright itโs been overexposed, I canโt quite make you outโฆ
The place known as despair exists beyond our imagination โ nothing more than a deep, deep, blacknessโฆ a tiny little place from which I can manage to not miss the tiny light that is you.
But faced with kindness, Iโll grow weak againโฆ Iโll end up wishing for you to, โLove me.โโฆ Iโll end up yearning for you to say, โYouโre not alone.โ!
Taking strong measures under the impression this mustnโt be allowed, Iโm doing all kinds of foolish thingsโฆ And once I do away with the parts of me that are honest, Iโll lose track of who I even was.
Donโt the words โI love you.โ, and morning kisses, become nothing more than salutations once we grow used to them? But amid days that shine so bright theyโve been overexposed, weโre unable to noticeโฆ
The place known as despair produced a synergy that reminded me; Mere recollection seems to be achieving an afterimage effect:
Open your eyes, And youโll be in tears before this โpresent timeโ. That nostalgic phrase: โLove me.โ will be something you long for.
Because youโre here, Iโm still just as weak as I was beforeโฆ I can even honestly wish for you to, โLove me.โโฆ And I come to the conclusion that, โIโm happy like this.โ