At first I thought it was the nights
I thought the nights were the worst part
The sudden fits of loneliness that come at 3am
The tv I have to watch to dull the pain
The words I have to write to drain the pain
Falling asleep alone

Then I thought it was the mornings
I thought the mornings were the worse part
The happiness I feel right after a dream
The empty spot next to me
The empty spot reminding me
You're still gone

But then I realized it was the day
The days were the worst part
Days full of little events I used to tell you about
Days of starting to type out a message
Days of erasing the words I was going to say
Because you're gone one more day
{bcg}

"How are you?"
"I'm fine."

"How are you?"
"I feel sick, sick like I'm dying. Dying from all of the things that used to make me happy. Your pictures on my computer are killing me. Your old letters are killing me. Every memory of me and you and everything we used to be, is killing me. But the thing that gets to me the most, the one thing that tops all other reason for tears: The fact that I can't talk to you about it. I can't tell you about how much I miss you or how much  I loved you or about all of the hard times. I can't ask you if you feel the same. I can't ask you if you want to try again. That's killing me, not having my best friend."

A wave of grey
A surge of anxiety

What was I doing here
Do I recognised this place

A dark cocoon
A low rising mist
A location only I hold

The lonely, heavy pull
Was this life

Alone with  my mind
A dangerous predicament
A choice I have not made

Can you hear my screams
Or are they muffled like my mind  

I see no route ahead
The path is fading quickly

I hold the rail
Longing for direction

No one sees me
There's no one here

I look up at the world above
Will I one day be taken there!!?