Sadness comes rarely, only at night, afternoon or in the morning. What's troubling me is this feeling of emptiness that's been wanting to suffocate me every time I step away from others. It's lurking, always prepared, always anticipating my soft hours so it can drop some knives in the vertigo and we can all have some fun with crows and tough air and broken glass and war and war dressed as peace.
I want wings not legs, I want kisses not stares, I want someone who's not there.