If I hold on much longer I might break my hands. I must respect the space you have but you tread in my lands. And all things aside I know we both know where we stand. I'm stuck here. And you’re there and that's it. This quicksand it pulls me under. It pulls me underneath her. And I'm learning how to live with my unintended consequences. While you're busy jumping fences. Afraid to stay in one spot for too long. Biting the bait. Pulling me down. Telling myself to rebuild and rebound. Yet always hoping to see you around. Cause that's my idea of safe and sound. But I'd rather gamble lose all and face death than fucking rot here exhausted from this waste of breath. I always waste my breath. I'm trying hard. Real hard. Everyday not to lose my temper.