I’ve come to the contusion that I have to you go.
You can accuse me of whatever you’d like, I know I kept my side of the street clean as I could.
What I can’t tolerate, is the out-of-know where accusing me of things I didn’t do and then blocking me before I can defend myself.
Sorry my life. But I’ve crossed a lie I didn’t know I had. I hope solitude is less hellish for you than it has been for me.
With this, I am formally given up on you.