every second, unplanned. every moment, the weightlessness or the heaviness of silence. you're in my thoughts, the pain of a paperweight. I want to drop you, smash you into a thousand million little reflective pieces, but it doesn't matter, not really. the rorschach of broken glass, I'll still find your face. the eyes, mostly. that's what got me. the dark, endless abyss of them. I see them in my sleep sometimes, see the way you used to look at me when I close my eyes. it's a unique kind of pain, somewhere between the sharp sting of a paper cut and getting annihilated by a bus. there's no being free of you. there's no escape. I want one. I want to let go. I want to hit the bottom, but I'm so scared there isn't one. you don't want it anymore, but I'm so scared that my love begins and ends with you, and you hold onto it, greedy like a toddler with a fistful of sweets. for you. for no one else.