Sometimes it seems
like me and her, we
keep missing each other, one
is high while the other is low,
One of us stays, the other goes
and what goes up
must come down.

It is hard to be here,
Being what I am. What am I?
How are you? Let us talk for
awhile. We are friends, don't
give up on lonely chance for
relationship would not be forced, nor should
intimacy be founded upon a thing as fragile
as mental health if we are to have hope. It's
'cause when I talk to you it feels alright to
be alive. I cannot apologize, "I was gonna
die young, now I gotta wait for you, ***."