My feelings burn through my skin.
Darkness is my old friend, and he has come to visit me again.
We sit by the window and drink our tea.
I smoke a cigarette, which is not like me.
But that's what Darkness does.
Brings out all the ugly parts of me, and turns them into beauty
that only it can see.

Oh, I see you've been crying.
Is that why there is blood all over?
Oh, come on, honey.
This is my world.
Where have you been?
Coiled on the ground bruised and pained?
Wow, I'm so far ahead.
It will only get worst.
Stop living in my world.

I often think about that time in the morning at your house.
I was awake, because I always woke up early, and once
I sat up, and left your arms to sit by the cold window,
you reached your arms out grabbing for me saying in a
very sweet, hushed, slumbered tone:
"Come back to bed, Ashy."
Once you heard me start to cry, your eyes shot open, and
you have never said you were sorry so many times in your life.

So here I am floating in the waters of oblivion.
I seem to have tangled myself into the waves.
The chaos and hatred has been engraved.
I am sheeply covered in your blood.
You are so far far away from me,
but I keep reaching.

I have dug my grave.
This silver spoon has gotten *****.
And his illusions were my lost challenge.
Pushed to my knees.
I don't pray.