When your cigarette doesn't ash and the cherry keeps on burning, and the way the smoke looks when it's lost it's way in the air,
and how people inhale the fumes like oxygen even though they know it's killing them.

The look of tears flowing from your eyes that match the red ribbons flowing out of your wrist,
and the look of healed scars,
and how behind each one there's a story that might never be told.

Empty people sourrounded by empty ***** bottles, and the way the alcohol burns their throats,
but they keep on drinking it anyways.

The dead looks in people's eye when they're advoiding something they don't want to talk about, and the way screams feels when they crawl up your neck.

The way the moon hides behind the clouds because it too cries sometimes and wants to be alone.
Old photographs that show your process of losing your inncocence,and your process of slowly dying.
The sharp keys on the piano and how the piercing noise hurts your ears and rings in the air.
The feeling of letting go.
Old heartbreaking love letters.
The calls for help no one really hears.
The feeling of kisses when they really don't mean anything other than you're lonely.
The clock that makes every sinking second sitting in the hospital room feel like decades.

The way I can find beauty in everything around me, but I can't seem to find an ounce of beauty in myself.

Sometime's when I am Here. I can't stand it, but lately you bring me joy underneath this tree trunk and roots that fall from the sky, it is a wonderful place at times and at times I want to escape. When I am gone I slightly dread the drive here but once I am here sourrounded by all this magic and all these complex characters that are flustered and that are joyful  or emotional. I will truly miss it.