The clouds around me gather as I collect my thoughts about what I think is real or not. The fear takes over in the blue sky of my mind and my heart sinks deeply into the abyss of my chest and I wonder how many lives have you had before we met and how many lives will you have after me. The ocean of my heart is deep and waning and I have no way to navigate it without the ideas of what I think I know already and it is of no help because without the smell of you I have no way to remember if you were real. Sometimes I sit here confused and strained and all I want is to have a cigarette like someone who has a real thought would need to compose their real thoughts and look smart about it but but but but.. disappointment surges in again and again like a cruel joke and it makes me wonder if the decisions I make about my life and the choices I choose are really the ones that I need when clearly they arenβt. You were a choice as well. Every conversation was a choice and you also were a casualty. We were a casualty and I let us die foolishly.