u take me to such great heights, i'll fall if i'm not careful

"Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold."

Excerpt from The Ballad of Reading Gaol ~ Oscar Wilde

I'm still thinking abt Sunday.

I really ought to keep my emotions in check.