This man. This man I love, to the bottomless pits of my being. Lord, I love. But I’ve lost hope. I’ve lost hope That we could ever be a family. Or even friends. I’ve lost hope. This man I love, I also hate. Through his lies, I frolic through, the bees and butterflies. The bees, the buzzing, of a new life ahead of me. The butterflies, the flying, the sweet smell of freedom. These shackles and chains, I bare no more. The tears may come, But still I go. There’s still hope, beyond that door.