The Cut That Always Bleeds

Love is like an accident - it seems like everything has already happened, but you're still standing among the wreckage, looking at the dents and thinking, “Well, at least it burned beautifully.” This sound isn't just pain, but that sweet taste of the habit of suffering for the same person. When you know they'll come back. That it will be “not now,” “I'm confused,” and “I'm sorry, it's just complicated” again. And you open the door anyway.

The song smells of blood and perfume - that mixture in which it is difficult to understand where love ends and addiction begins. The voice trembles, but not from weakness - from the fatigue of being strong. From the endless “left - came back - left.” And while someone writes prescriptions for healing, here they choose not to be treated. Because sometimes pain is the only thing that still reminds you of life.