Talking to you stops my respiration, you find it to be any easy and normal task while I suffocate with each word, with each good night. You think everything is fine but it’s not, I’m slowly following my death and changing my course to what I thought would be my happy life. You tore my life to pieces and that’s okay. I’ll just being living this way from now on: Smoking, Working out, Skating, and giving hell.