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Truth is, I am a righteous man, and I believe in her.
Truth is, all my love is borrowed.
Truth is, the hope in my heart blooms from her.
Truth is, when she calls, I go.
Truth is, I could not care less.
There's a space carved in my heart, it holds her, holds her close.
If I cannot be devoured, I'll devour her.
She'll be a picture in my wallet, she'll be a frame on my desk, she'll forever point to the sun, to the north star, she'll be my broken compass.
Truth is, I did not have a heart.
She made herself home.
And then she left.
Left a heart with a cave of her name.
I live on borrowed love.
I steal her hope.
She lost her way home.
Truth is, if I loved her more.
She would have come home.
In another life, I get lost with her.
In another life, I love what I have.
In another life, I have a heart, I have love and hope and kindness and I don't steal hers.
In another life, she comes home.
In another life, I love her more.
I have a heart, she stays in it, I stay with her.
The truth is,
In every life
Every time,
I am a righteous man.
I kill my best friend.