Texty: Dying Year (The). Lucky 22. Apollo Poxy.

My heart beats quickly up my throat, out of my mouth and onto your floor, and finds it's way underneath your feet. How could I have ever been so blind, how could I let you let me down this time? There's something magic in your eyes, the way you smile seemed so right, so where did we go wrong? It doesn't matter what you think about me now, It doesn't matter what you do. We're too deep into this to make it right again, so let me just let go of you. I breathe in but can't breathe out, I'm trying too hard not too think about every word you said. Is there truth between your lies, or did you bury them too deep to find?