The second i snap out of my dream and back into the realism of it all, im hoping second by second that your actually here beside me and that i wasn't just dreaming out loud. My body and mind, coming back to the surface of it all, my breathing pick's up and my sense of feel and smell has resurfaced. I smell the sweet and light smell of your hair but im not sure if it's just the after math of my dream. starring at this wall, im afraid to roll over, because if i roll over and your not there i don't know how well i'm going to do or if ill even continue with my day. If I can continue this dream of you, i'll sleep forever, i'll never open my eyes again. I brace myself, cause it's time for me to roll over. Tightening my muscles, stretching my skin, tired bone's cracking, hair moving in all direction's, clothes moving out of place and indenting the bed. I squeeze my eye's tight, causing my pupil's to shrink, hoping that when i open these door's and let my pupil's increase to normal size, there your perfectly shaped body will be. I imagine it before i dare to reveal the truth. The blanket's fall into place where your curves indent, your hair in a wave like the pattern flowing wave's in the ocean, your arm being tucked just under your chin where it meet's your other arm and after a few seconds i can't bare the taunt my imagination is dangling in my face, so i open my eyes and there you are. Exactly how  I imagined it. I take a moment for all this to register, as if i had just won the lottery. In that moment i find myself wrapping my arm's around you and your finger's sliding up my arm and into my hand to lock with mine. This is truely the meaning of "Goodmorning", so goodmorning, babe.

Im going for a walk. A walk to clear my head. Clear it right out. Take away the memories, burn away the knowledge, i don't care. Everything need's to be moved out of my mind and thought's and sold at a garage sale for all i care. This fresh air isnt working. Where's my lighter, come here cancer. I take a deep breath in and take in all the toxin's with it, hopeing maybe a chemical reaction will effect everything going on in my head, melting away everything. Step, inhale, step, exhale. While blowing out the toxin, i blow out my thought's and memory and walk right back into them. Blow by blow, im taking them for you. Puff by puff, im taking these in for sanity. Half way done and block's from home i keep looking over my shoulder hoping maybe you or someone like you will follow quickly after. Oh cigarette, why must the comfort you bring over me disappear once you've left me? But like you, the cigarette did not respond, because the cigarette was gone and out of my hand's. Out of reach. So i stand there, looking at the empty space where the just barely burning end of the cigarette settles into place and i just watch the snow take over. I watch the once visibly lit cigarette turn black and into ash's. Even though the cigarette's burnt out, im still standing here, uncertain as to why im here, but im here and im waiting. I will wait until dusk and if the spark comes back, i will move at the paste the spark moves. Just to make sure i stay with it. But if not, i will go home and i will relight another cigarette, hoping maybe this is the right one.

William Melchert-Dinkle:

A monster... no. A murderer.. .no. A giver, yes .Sound’s about right. How can anybody judge me after I checked myself in and tell me that I’m sick in the head. I’m aware, it might not have been right, but they were asking for it, all those kid’s needed was a little encouragement, a little push to go after what they wanted. People said it was an addiction.. .a pleasure if you please. No, it wasn’t, I didn’t get off from it, Fein for it, it just made me more comfortable knowing that there’s a little less hate in the world. Sure, I lied but if I didn’t, do you honestly think they’d be fixed? Do you honestly think that anything would be different? No, nothing would, they’d still be the same kid’s hating their lives by each growing second of each and every single day, being miserable and making everyone else miserable around them. Does guilt ride on my back? Of course, I sat there and told kid’s all these sick and twisted way’s to end their lives and I watched them do it. I pretended I was doing it with them so they weren’t alone, I don’t really know what came over me. If I wasn’t feeling some sort of guilt or remorse over this, so called addiction, then I wouldn’t be here, would I? Look, I just came here to geLhelp. I’ll admit it, from the outside looking in, it was wrong to do this. Every single part of it seemed wrong to everyone, the fake pacts, the fake Identity. But I only did this because I wanted to help them. So at thern end of the day, we all got what we wanted. What else can I say other then I’m sorry? But sorry doesn’t fix everything, certainly not these habits and all the opinions. I guess one way to look at it, is that at the end of the day, after I faked being there for these people, faked caring and following through, I’m the one that’s alone, just me and my messed up habit’s. But hey, if I jumped off a cliff, would you do the same?

The winter was our season. While the cold air creep's up upon me, upon you, it send's shiver's down my spine. The kind of shiver's that weaken you, the ones full of loneliness. As the first snow fall come's it just doesnt feel like it should, like it did. A walk in the cold was once filled with warmth, the kind from the inside going out. But now i walk and all i feel is the cold but not just the cold of the air, the cold of how empty everything inside of me now is. The snow fall's a little less this year but i know why, there's no need for logic reasoning.It's awfly uncomfortable to not have you right now. As i walk and acknowledge my surrounding's the wind blows through me, it remind's me of you. I can only hope the ice doesnt slip out from under you, but then again you'd know how it felt when you slipt right from under me:The crash and the rush of losing all control as you knew it. As i walk down this street like we once did hand in hand, i look around and all i see is the bare tree's. There's no need for the tree's to talk, without their leaves theyre self explainitory. When i look up to try and dump the thoughts of you out of my head i see nothing but grey, almost to a point where it doesnt look like there's clouds anymore, look's more like a painting. But what use does an already painted canvas have? When i look ahead and continue to walk i look down, down to the sidewalk where i, at one point, had set eyes on you. When i could've whenever i wanted to. I can only dream about that privledge now. We went together like the winter and a sweater. And like the combination, we couldn't go without one another.  But now i walk on this sidewalk with my jacket, my mittens, and a empty hand and all i can do is just think about how full this hand was. I had the whole world in it. I had you. The winter had us. But now the winter and i are both empty handed. This winter feel's like a different season, a season that doesn't exsist for a reason. The snow flakes fall because they have to, not because they want to. The air blow's with bitter sweet cold because it want's to taunt me. The tree's weep with lonesome and worry because theyre with me on this one. The snow on the ground show's my footstep's, show's that it's only me. no one beside me. And you, you sit at home in your signifigant other's arm's, forgetting the real feeling of winter. Winter, winter was our season. As you stand outside the air that had blown through me creep's it's way to you and as it weep's over you, you feel it, you breathe it in, and you hear it, hear it as it whispers into your ear's the warmth of the memories. That's when you realize that yes, winter, Winter was our season.

I walked into my apartment to see that I live by myself. To see that I eat by myself. To see I watch tv by myself. To see that I brush my teeth by myself. To see that I go to bed, all by myself. Then my cat hop's on the bed and I realize im not by myself, until I roll over and see the side of the bed that was "your's". I'll just sleep on the couch tonight. Pongo doesn't follow and I thank you pongo cause I don't like crying infront of others.

For days weve been at war. Dodging bullets for your own well-being while taking shots for others.Airplanes crashing all around. The ground shaking from the explosions. Taking pictures with our eyes only to find, no beauty. No purity. No comfort. No home. I look around me and all I see is grey. Smoke filling our lungs and taking us down with the fallen air force that now lays beneath our feet. I stand in the middle of this, looking all around me in disgust. I look across from me and I see you standing there, on enemy lines, pointing the gun right for my heart. "Hit em wear it hurts" they whispered in your ears while you try to keep your hands steady and your gun pointed. Tears stream down your face. I hold the white flag in one hand while my other makes a fist. I'm ready, so shoot. Hit me dead on. Let me fall to my knees like your tears fall down your cheek. Let me lay face down on the dead like a coward. Let the bullet shoot right through to the next guy. But don't let me pass those enemy lines. Don't let me live long enough to wave the white flag.