No sense.

I loved him so much that I loved him more than me, and in a fit of sanity I noticed it.
so I hated it for making me stop loving myself.
I hated him so much that I hated him more than myself, and in a fit of madness I killed him.
I nailed the sharpest knife 37 times on his chest. again and again.
his blood stung my skin. in the distance you could only hear the sound of the highway.
then I ran and I cried.
and I hated myself a little more.

fuente