our love is dead but without limit， like the surface of the moon， or the land between here and the mountains. well it is not these hiding places that have kept us innocent but the way you taught me to just let it all go by. and so we’ve learned to be as faithless， stand behind bulletproof glass， exchanging our affections through a drawer. and it was always horribly convenient and happening too fast， you should count your change before you’re even out the door， yes you should.
but please return， return to the person that you were and i will do the same. cause it’s too hard to belong to someone who is gone， my compass spins， the wilderness remains.
once too often i’ve retreated into the depths of my despair， i built a barricade to block you on the road. but standing there with all of my possessions piled higher than a house， i felt closer to you than you ever would have known. so let these tiny acts of charity be common ground on which to build a monument to commemorate our tim