By Michael Yosef

It's empty now. All those faded unimportant memories of a once important being.

It's an empty sting. The sting of a dagger piercing your skull, a dagger hanging on a thin string.

You wish it were real. At least if it were real it would be clearer and everything you crave would be nearer.

Let's face it. You don't understand love so erase it. It's not worth moping over the waisted.

Chapter ends. New beginnings. Locked an idea that spreads awareness for the living.

Myself. Meant for me and no one else. Here to be and born to see beyond the vast perceptions. I'm not a product of deception.

First love is like the 4th step of a ten step ladder. I hope I can reach the highest step before the staircase shatters.

Let's make this first love a real thing. My thing. The only thing to remind me what I possess for a new important being.