The world is full of seasons; of anguish, of laughter and it comes to mind to write you this:

Nothing is sure.

Nothing is pure.

And no matter who we think we are,

Everyone gets her chance to be nothing.

Love’s supposed to heal, but it breaks my heart to feel

The pain in your voice —

But you know it’s all going somewhere.

And I would crush my heart and throw it in the street

If I could pay for your choice.

Isn’t that what friends are for?

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Matsie For the Win!