If we know we can not survive,
we can at least try.
because, if we don't try,
we will never know how it
feels to be **alive.

sometimes i get these attacks,
where i feel like i just
want to scream,
at the top of my lungs
because you aren't here
anymore,
and i miss you,
so much.

and sometimes i get these attacks,
where i feel like i can't breathe,
because you aren't next to
me, and you never were,
and you never will be.


and sometimes i get these attacks,
where i just want to kiss you,
when i see you,
i want to kiss that beautiful
face of yours,
and those lips that
are always full, wet
and pink.

and sometimes i get these attacks,
where i just want to hide
in a corner and cry,
because i know
you'll never be mine.

broken fingers,
broken hearts
and lost loves
who will stay
forever hidden
in manhattan.