It does not matter the amount of words I try to write to make a little sense out of you, we had the perfect nonsense. You took in the ****** up and I took in the craziness. The amount of words that come out of the mouth that tries to make me feel better about this doesn't matter either, I knew I was drowning while still trying to make you experience flying for the first time. I knew you were the stubborn one.
So stubborn it can be the reason of what ends us.
It was.
Well, maybe.
The nonsense is what woke me, saving me from every horrible nightmare
Injected potions of green colored little shapes of happiness
And tiny rainy clouds where wildfires went mad
Sang me to sleep and tucked every bad thought in some black hole to never come back
Yet again it was the nonsense that gave me rocks as gifts, tied a couple on my rists and feet to help me drown and hoped I would not.
My brain presses on what's left of the last potion and blooms up and blows up, I'm one of the crazy ones now.
Karma will be nice to me this time.

Taking a sip of the clear sky with a mind that's full with everything but clearness
Want a cup of happiness your highness?
No, dearest stars, keep hiding away
Maybe tomorrow we can play
Today I'm okay with just glaring at the greyest sky, maybe today I'll stop looking and find a way to finally have a taste of freeness
Or maybe I'll take a puff of something to clear my head for it's jealous of your rested grey sky
Loveliest sky, teach me your secrets
How can you be so messed up yet so clear
Why do you choose to hide the clouds and stars and be quiet and quite alone?
I'll listen carefully, I'll do as advised

I felt everything and nothing all at once and thought this is it, hope, lots of hope.

I bet this is what a mother feels like when she holds her new baby born for the first time, or a struggling person leaving the doors of a rehab behind forever, or every kid seeing a rainbow after long rainy days

But this is happiness, not love
I've felt lots of happiness
Not a lot of love

Whispers in my head repeating what they said: There's nothing wrong with you, it's not your fault and you don't deserve this.
This is not what they call love.

I've had my definitions of love, for a movie or a song. For a mother or a sibling.
But this is not what they call love.

I'm breaking my brick wall and building it all over again but I'll make sure I'm doing it all by myself with no love's help

I'll add colors to my own skies
Black is not my color

I'll learn music and poetry
And plant new trees

This time, at least for once
I'll be there for me

Love has not yet proven its existence

Lots of stars and human beings
Songs and stories to tell
Thoughts and deadly potions
Pills and cigarettes
Nothing's intersting enough
Distracting enough
Be my sun
Light me up, sing me songs
Tell me stories about your past
Love me less, burn me up
But always be there
It's been always enough

Getting rid of reminders, my own thoughts and yours, memories and you.
I keep a tight grip on my eyes and try to rip them off for I see you on painted walls, different shapes of clouds, music and daydreams.
I burry my face in a pillow: "no, that's not your smell. I'm going crazy. I'm losing it"
my tongue burns when I accidentally call someone by your name
my ripcage holds nothing hostage anymore.
I bet this is worse than..
I'm not going to, no.
No, no my sun will hide the clouds
and my coffee will hide the scent
I refuse to bury my face or harm myself
my ripcage can hold songs, blood and smoke.
I will learn to unfeel this
even though you'd be so good to me, you'd unintentionally be very, very dangerous.