"Well, it kind of hurts when the words you write

And kind of turn themselves into knives,

And don't mind my nerve you can call it fiction,

'Cause I like being submerged in your contradictions, dear,

'Cause here we are,

Here we are."

I don't know what we are,

but right now, I just know that I really want to see you.

I need to.

B.