how easily the world is broken, how feeble the castle of cards, how absolute the reprochfulness, how distinct the way your voice trembles, the despair resounding with his every pounding on the walls of the drawbridge. she is trapped in her tower, alone in the dark, croching under every shout and bellow, useless, powerless, thoughtful... misses them, the happy bunch, the carefree, the loveable, the incomparably hillarious - which he could be a part of, he's like them. never going to force anyone into anything, undecided crystal-clear deceitfulness. craving to hear the voice, melting at the memory of it, crumbs of indistinct solitude, creeping icy heartache. i want to be left alone, but with you comforting me, i want to run away with you chasing my tracks to the ends of the world, i want to cry my heart out for you wounds, but never speak a words about it, i want to heal every broken fiber of your soul, but not knowing it was me and i never want you to love me - it would only ruin things and you'd stop being perfect.