Twelve minutes until then and I'm hoping that you come late.
It's the last time I'll see your face for a while.
I love your hair; I don't think I ever told you that.
I know you hate it, but I would trade any day.
It's so untamed – wild. I reflect something trapped in your heart,
that you are scared to let out.

I'm scared to see you one last time.
How badly did I hurt your soul? How badly did I scar you?
The tears aren't enough to say sorry, the shivering, not a big enough sign.
I didn't want things to be this way. But I should
have know. People who I love like a sister never turn out right.
Cursed, crushed, and beaten, my soul, your heart.
I'm sorry.

I'm scared to talk to you because I always make things worst.
I don't want to mess things up on the last day.
But I want you talk anyways.
I want to know – but I don't want to know.
Torn.

Four minutes, my heart is pounding, but what's the difference?
It's just one more time I put my mask on and try and smile.
You said you loved my smile. I don't know why.
My teeth are crooked, my lips are chapped. I'm a
disaster.

Always was, always will be. Help?
You're late. I'm breathing okay now.
Waiting for the doorbell to ring –

ding-dong.