"are you done for tonight?"
"yeah.. i'm just going to write... i mean lay! yeah, lay"
"good, hope to see you tomorrow"

it was inevitable that he is going to break the promise
a shallow habit of irreparable memories and scars
breaking the law, breaking the physics of a fellow inhabitant
the pumped longing warrants his revealed debility
he sat next to the desk, the illuminance from the lamp pervades his empty heart
there was a notebook, a blank one which has been waiting to be overdrawn by emotions
the pen however, layed in darkness and it didn't want to do anything
it just layed there, alone with negligence written through its whole look
he lifelessly brought it on his hand, looked at it carelessly, then threw it to litter

his posture has changed dramatically, it looked like he was ready for everything
he closed the notebook, leaving the blank pages - blank, but the mind was still filled
as he stood up, he started to feel a little weak, maybe he really needed some sleep
the mind was still full of inextricable thoughts that he firmly intended to express
over the night he didn't sleep, he just stood three inches above the desk, above the lamp
he elucidated his unexpected feelings, the wholesome truth has been ascertained and submerged...
his delicate body has been floating around, showing how much his soul didn't weigh
his heart was made of a gas, a gas lightest from air, it just volatillized through exhauster
and as we and him knew how much of a light-heart he is, we didn't perceive the facilely discerned truth
it was inevitable that she has broken his heart, completely