When I get done smoking this cigarette, there will be no children to look in on. No baby giggles. Two little angels won't be waiting for me on the inside. I'm alone again. I've lost my best friend. And her two babies who stole my heart. Their stuff is packed, waiting for the heart breaker to pick up.

If this was good.
If this was pure.
If this was honest.

I could be happy.

But instead I'm left waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Waiting for the implosion.
Hoping I'm wrong.
Fearing I'm right.

When you lose someone to suicide, it's hard. Its terrible. But at least they are gone.

When you lose your best friend to a fake life that she has never wanted to a new person that has changed her beyond recognition
And you have to see her "happy" life pop up on your news feed

That's a different kind of hell.

Yahweh
Will you cry with me tonight
My world broken
No end of pain in sight
Will you lift me up and grieve with me in your arms
Will you be the friend I've lost
Will you protect our babies from harm
Will you promise me again once more
That your promise is still good
That I'll again hope
That I'll one day soar.
Take me high away from pain
Or give me strength to survive this night
Promise me there is an end to this
Though there is no break from pain in sight.