I want to stop, but I can't. Because all I ever wanted was there in my grasp, but it all slipped out of reach.

And now you're flying high in the sky with another balloon, floating up together, with love and courage.

While I am down here, with nothing but a messed up face, messed up body, and messed up love.

I was never the balloon that was made for you, just one that couldn't fly with you.

I was the balloon that strayed at the edge of the world, never able to fly. With you I felt a chance. But now you're flying higher than before.

I was the balloon just at the tip of a point, taunting and jabbing me, but I never popped. You never popped. We never popped.

Until love popped me, leaving me smaller than before, while you have tied with another bright balloon.

That balloon is beautiful and amazing. The way you called me. The only difference is you say you love that balloon.

I was the balloon that never got your love, but was blamed for you not "giving me what I deserve" in life, the good.

You gave me it all, you gave me the needle. But you popped me, I only stuck it deeper, until I was small enough to rip and break.

Now each time I look at you fly high with your balloon, I feel so so blue.

I'll never get rid of the feeling to be by your side and do all the things I wanted to do and fly high with you, balloon.

I've popped, not moving on just yet from you. But I'm with my own balloon.

Balloons.