trying to get the shit together

You, loved one, I used to be one of those, once. That people that boring people say have "free spirit", or just...absolutely fucking insane. I was this bomb of passion waiting for the right time to explode. I desired life. Lustfully in all its faults. I could feel the pleasure in the saddest falls. But then, well, it's a rotten world and I never did explode. I became a sad little fragile kid who feels no passion in the bone. Not a spark. But the walls of my heart could never be enough to hold it all, so I soaked you in my rotten passion. That's unforgivable and sick.

I'm still more sorrowful for myself. I lose.

You're the closest to it I've ever gone.