I want to fly away from you, but you've made my life such a mess I've misplaced my wings.

Love is jumping off a cliff just for the rush of free falling, but taking the risk that you may never survive the landing.

My morals are now tainted, my lines have been crossed, my boundries have been broken, I don't know how to live anymore my final words are spoken.

If a small thing has the power to make you angry, does that not indicate something about your size?