L. V., He’s not the right person if you have to lie to him like this, your friends tell you. But I'm not lying. But he's not the right person. But I want him to be the right person. He has to be the right person. I’m going to make him the right person. I’m tired. He’s not the right person. But why does he smile like that.
[i found this poem in my drafts, where it should have remained (pt. 5)]