And the only peace I'll find is in bed falling asleep. Probably dreaming of betters times. My pulse says im alive but my mind is six feet deep. Gaps of absence within a heartbeat, a mix with the silence in the streets. I haven't loved in weeks. And if blood was a river mine would be flooding the banks, overlooking the lands drowning my innocence. Because since when did love or hate make any sense? Is there even a difference between their distance? The world is a beautiful place and I am no longer afraid or are they relevant to their existence? The threads of my soul vibrate to the rhythm of your breath. A constant reminder of what the summer once meant, underneath sentiments and word placements. Because its one thing to be upset, torn and ripped asunder, its another to be whole and put together, but always feeling alone and under the weather. Sleeping isnt exactly sleep if your still wide awake, hoping for a better day to come by. But it doesnt come, and youre stuck singing the same sad songs, praying that the sun would explode, and maybe the light will finally show. Im not empty im just not full, but i love this weather and i love this idea that one day everything will come together. That every thread leads to one another and not everything is lost. not everything is lost, not everything i believed in is gone, because if there's some sort of hope, then maybe there's some sort of reason to live. But this feeling, this rush of emotion that pierces my every pulse, it belongs to someone or something, and ive lost sight of what it was and who it spoke to. Im covering up the ideas that the past is harmful but the future is important, im just trying to find a reason to sleep calmly, that doesnt revolve around you or me.