11:11 He wished for her to be okay, Her head buried in his shoulder, Shaking them both with sobs that Bounced off the walls and screamed That he was doing it all wrong.
11:11 He wished for everyone to be okay, His inbox filled with letters that Formed words that told the stories Of how no one was really ever okay, and How he was doing it all wrong.
11:11 He wished for her to come back, His eyes burning with the regret of Not telling her how much he'd miss her, the sharp Wind on this cheek as he stared at her grave Reminded him on how he had done it all wrong.
11:11 He wished that he'd be okay, Sudden realization that wishes are Only that, the hollow hope like The gorges in his skin to remind him How he did everything wrong.
11:11 He hoped there wasn't nothing After leaving this world of fake Wishes, and lay his head in his pool of blood On the bathroom floor, one last slit across his throat, And he wished he didn't get this wrong.