blank stare at blank page
the Pit of Acheron stretching down
pray pray pray with my wretched mouth
for anything that makes me think of your face rising out of it

i still ******* love you

this isnt just feet on the precipice of deepening reverie
this is death of the best of me
please please please let me believe forever that your flesh
still regrets the loss of mine pressed close

my ghost really needs it