The paper landed on the table, but the news was stapled to his chest. A tattoo.

Stealing it, in a sick kind of sense, was like earning it.

I walked home, seeing all my doubt from the other side. Have you ever seen that? Like when you go on holiday. On the way back, everything is the same but it looks a little different than it did on the way. It's because you're seeing it backwards.

So I saw that there was only me. There was only me who could worry about what was happening here, inside these walls of my life. Other people had their own worlds to worry about, and in the end, they had to fend for themselves, just like us.

There were people everywhere on the city street, but the stranger could not have been more alone if it were empty.

If I ever leave this place- I'll make sure I'm better HERE first.

Yes, I know it. In the darkness of my dark beating heart, I know. He'd have loved it alright. You see? Even Death Has A Heart.