Dear God,
I'm not asking for a miracle.
But I sure wouldn't mind one, either.
Yours sincerely,
*A Soul in Despair

and it's five am,
and i should be getting
ready do to something,
anything,
but no,
i decide to
sit on the cold,
white bathroom floor,
with a lit cigarette,
and an empty bottle
of wiskey next
to me,
while in the bedroom,
my lover sleeps peacefully
on the squeaky, messy bed,
and patiently awaits
fot my arrival
back in bed,
which will never come.

He told me that in order to stop hurting him I would have to stop breathing.
Little did he know I had stopped. A long time ago.
And kissing him was like kissing the sun.
His mouth was the only ash I would let enter my lungs.
I hate the fact that I am drowning on land.

the universe
isn't vast enough
and big enough
to show you
how much
i love you.