It’s been years now, I’ve got new rocks in my pockets: some smooth and polished, others that feel more like you. I’ve spent a long time learning how to live without cutting my palms. -what I’m saying is I know better about letting go now. And I know none of this matters, because I was the grenade you threw yourself on, but I’m okay now. Unquestionably better than I was. I guess that’s what I’m saying. I didn’t let it mean nothing.