This won't be the last you'll hear from me: it's just the start. I hope that he keeps you up for weeks like you did to me. I will hold a candle up to you to singe your skin. Brace yourself: I'm bent with bitterness. When your apologies fail to ring true, (you're) so slick with that sarcastic slew of phrases like I thought you knew, while keeping me in hot pursuit. Tracing the plot finds skin touching skin (absence follows). In the end, I win every time as ink remains. Sour tastes prevail as you play back the tape machine.