This life is punctuated by some mistake, failing to glean the right emphasis and the meaning. This life is punctuated like a texting session between two overheated, insecure teens. You try to say what you mean, "I have to leave but I'm not ready." Lip-sync the comforting scene. Trembling jaws can't stop stuttering. I can't see you when I need to. How am I supposed to get through? Method-actor, suffering... try repeating once again this time with feeling. Premeditated like some sick joke...waited all night for you.