The dark allows my broken heart to rest.
When the pieces are shattered they have time to fix a bit.
Not anymore.
The dark haunts me.
It used to peacefully whisper to me.
Sing me to sleep.
Now it screams in pain.
Screams in her voice.
**** I loved her.
Why do I let people do this to me?
I'm such an idiot.
Everyone I've ever loved has torn me to pieces and left me to bleed.
Bleed drowning in memories.
I'm dead now.
Wandering around aimlessly.
No purpose.
No purpose at all.
No reason to live.
Why should I fight for life.
Why not just let go.
Let the earth **** me.
Enjoy the death.
Maybe peacefully drown.
Eat something I'm allergic to?
Athsma can do the trick.
Run three miles.
Just disappear.  
Leave like how love left me.
Broken.
Broken and ghostly.
Wandering pointlessly.

Dancing.
I dance on the clouds sometimes.
There times I am buried deep.
Almost too deep.
Too deep.
I'm sofficiating!
I can't breeth!
The pressure everyone puts on me.
No mum it's not athsma.
It's anxioty.
Plastic wrap around my lungs.
Tighter.
I'm dead.
Only on the inside though.
Still alive, sorta, on the outside.

and what is a shape
when everything’s fake
isosceles,
i can’t breathe
one thing having athsma taught me
is the shape of a ribcage
when i saw it on screen
it was bad enough for x-rays