The days just pass by
and the calender
where the pages are beeing pulled off
One after another
Only missing the "He loves me, he loves me not"
Then it could have been a flower.

'Cause some days he messages me
Some days he doesn't
I just keep waiting
For that single message
which now and then makes my day.

The whole night
I take turns in sleep
Right and left
On my back and sides again

A gentle breeze passes
over my face and body
It is my beloved’s song,
Her flying kiss

and it drifts out in sunsets
from throbbing eyeballs
locked on horizons,
thinking staring
following that double-frame
earthquake spasm
cut to black and blacker
behind the skull

There wasn't much left to do but drink the night away; just me and this bottle of ***.

I seemed to have blurred the lines from being 18 and happy to 22 and ready to drink myself to death.

I am not sure how I got here, maybe years of hiding sadness, who knows really?