it disgusts me how often i think of you i would jump off bridges off trains off skyscrapers to see you in the stinging water in the cold whip of the wind in the clouds in the sky your name would be the last sound that leaves my lips because i never got to say it again because i said it enough times and life decided that was enough it wasn't. no, i don't think of you often at all, because often implies there is an end and a beginning, but there is no pause when it comes to you for you are the beginning, and you were the end.
i'm flying too close to the sun and although my skin is warm i will combust