Yeah WHATEVER.

Maybe I'm not for you after all. Maybe it was all just a whim of yours. Maybe I'm just here holding on, chewing on whatever you have for me, the few spare bits you have inside you because I'm a hopeless stupid.
I don't know what it needs to be done for you to realize. Or maybe I'm the selfish bastard who wants just everything, every shit you have for me, or every rose. Maybe I should not be punishing myself for this. But maybe I'm just too fucking self-destructive.

I have a memory. I remember I died and make it to paradise, and it's not what they describe.

There was no magic, nor life was all colorful.

For much time I watched winged beings pass around me, with happy but blurry faces,

knowing joy but not love.

The experiences I had beside you, to came to know you, allowing you to be the only one to

truly know me, to be able to explore each other and lost ourselves in the original sin

is not an example of what is love.

Pity them, the angels and demons, they don't know how to recognize love when they have it

in front of them, 'cause many times you've been just between them.

But I notice, looking into your eyes I find love just the way it is... beautiful and perfect.

I have a memory. That I died and never again I saw the paradise in your eyes, for since the

very first time I saw it, you left me blind.

So this is what's all about huh?
You need to lose me first?
Maybe I got here too late?
HOW LONG MUST I WAIT for this kind of words come out of your mind, dedicated to me?
NEVERMIND. Who wants your poetry anyways?
HERE'S YOUR FUCKING ANGEL.

I hate this bitch. SERIOUSLY.