I don't feel like I'm screwed— because I let you go. I told myself you didn't care, that you were just playing with me. But I wanted to believe there were Strangers Like Me— ones who'd say, "Oh my God, you're beautiful. Wonderful. I want every second with you." But this isn't Tarzan. I can't take a leap. Every time I ask— why me? I just tell myself, "Stop being a little whiny bitch." Because life isn't Titanic, you see. But you— you left me the only Titanic thing that mattered: a hole in my chest. Now I can't breathe. All the time, effort, blood, sweat, and tears— wasted. At this point, I might as well bend the knee and say— it's over. There's no one left for me. Because you see— There are no Strangers Like Me.\n\ndante murcrow
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