It wasn't like I had never known this feeling. I've got nothing, but you've got something that feels just, exactly right. This whole decision I understand is all up to me, but to me you were never anything more than a friend until then. Do you have the answer for this? Is this just a way of breaking my heart? I mean, I could hold my breath for hours if you'd hold it for me, but I just can't see you doing so. I'm just going to sink, and bubble. And now the wind comes, and this delicate place becomes ruptured. (This delicate place, shattered around misdeeds). I was always on the outside looking in, but you never took the time to see, this requiem of my dreams forgotten. I'd love thee until my blood ran dry, my veins shriveled into dust, and the gray matter subsided into a dull blue. I'd love you from the start, I would, but I was on the outside looking in on the window panes, fogged from the dust from our mouths. This sentiment grows irritating. My skin itching to be released. Can you find me here? A nuance among ghosts. Here I am. Calling for you. Hear me. Will you? My eternity.