There’s nothing random about a particular event,
you can’t spread your wings in a box,
we were a lot lost.
We weren’t destined to be here,
this wasn’t the truth.
You can lie to yourself about this.
There has to be a reason for this.
There has to a reason for you to be this way.
It’s pestering me for the truth of its entirety.
I have seen more dimensions of your soul
than you think I have.
Mundane routines are bound
to forge our existence.
You’re more than that.
I am more me with you.
If you only knew how much you meant to me.
I am actually searching for the meaning
for why this was happening.
Yeah, it’s okay.