We don't need to talk, we don't need to write. You are the summer I spent inside, in my room cutting off ties. But then I grew up and grew out my hair, did you notice, did you care? I still love your face, I like to think it stayed the same.

I spent the last few years of my life thinking about how I wish I could die in my sleep, or in your bed, or by your side. Your life for what it's worth is not worth mine.

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