Time is but a thing of the past, a fleeting moment we'll never get back. A question then comes to the table.
Why can't I sleep?
But we both know the asnwer to this: my mind is wakeful because sleep is cold and terrifying.
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When you tell me forever, I question just how long forever really is. Does it mean that your forever is a year, or a lifetime? For I cannot answer this, and thus I have abandoned Forever.
Forever, it seems, is a liar.
Til my death and past, I love you.
