What a strange desire to drown,
   for this loves a sinking boat,
      pull me deep in purple and blue hues,
        the weight of my life in your waves,
           as I toss and I turn below the stars,
            constellations draw pictures of your face,
                listless, dark, dreary, drowning death
                       under your star, under your waves,
                              in this strange fascination
                                      to drown until we meet again.

My tenderness for you,
would like to be the grave; the land, so that you rest in my hands.
That is why at 2:48 AM, my alarming thoughts are purified.
As I quietly dig my own grave, u̶n̶t̶i̶l̶ ̶w̶e̶ ̶m̶e̶e̶t̶ ̶a̶g̶a̶i̶n̶'̶

To my heart that is dead,
deserted of hate and love already lost,
to my heart held by the brakes of my flesh,
I say unto you, stop your song; as I give the twilights of my life.
To be reunited with him once more.

It is not the pain itself,
It is the memory of having seen the bottom of the abyss,
The pain of each cataclysm, the pain of living torture.

It is the pain of these sleepless nights,
of this vile memory multiplied.
It is the pain of remembering your scent, It is the pain of this heart which beats through my poor crying soul.
The pain of reliving my abyss , full of nothingness, regret, empty , cold, desolate without you.

These memories bring me down,
     to the void, which I now climb alone.

When you lost your hair; you got angry.
   When you lost time; you rushed.
       When your strength left; you shut down.
           When I pushed; you pulled.
              When I talked; you yelled.
                 When I asked; you said " you don't understand"
I was a child,
       young, dumb, but honest.
           I loved you,
                I love you,
                   even if it breaks me.
                       I will love you.

Change your hair,
  Change your face,
       Change yourself,
           put him first,
Change , Change, Change,
          one thing stays the same. . . it's not you. . .
               it will never be you. . .
                        so consistent.

Is it love?
  No; just imagination.
magical creations; of a longing heart
and ardent passion, burning of desire; wanting.
Only to find disappointment;
Heaven on earth ceased to exist,
    for death tore the veil which shrouded my heart.
which shrouded my eyes; that made me blind.
Now that the spell is lifted, I fall to the ground,
and curse this ʟᴏɴɢɪɴɢ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ.

Love is nostalgic,
it is an invisible voice with gentle sadness,
it does not hurt, but it burns. . .
This ʙᴜʀɴɪɴɢ consumes,
   every corner of your soul,
       every tear streamed,
           every word uttered,
leaving ardent ash, wanting time to come to an end.
Forever to last longer, as it paints his picture
always burning, always hearing,
the same old tune.

Make me the exception,
let me love you; for she does not.
Make believe blindly in you and invade my heart,
****** me of reason,
turn my blood to flame and let burn with passion,
embrace me, never let go, live inside me.
Make me forget, please fulfill my r̶e̶q̶u̶e̶s̶t̶.