so I brought my writer wife
(prominently pregnant)
to the hospital
and on her bed, she screamed:
"weren't" "hasn't" "couldn't" "shan't"
"aint" "hadn't" "you're" "isn't"
"aren't" "didn't" "wasn't"
"who's?" "what's?" "he's" "she's"

The doctors were confounded
and they turned to me and they said:
"What the hell is she doing?"

And I replied with double speed
and a violent sense of urgency:
*"Don't you know?
She's having contractions -
she's a writer"

I'm really sorry I can't hold on to you. I regret every time I don't huge you tight enough or say the right things. I've lost something.
I think it was the ability to feel. I look at all this joy, all the pain, and my chest hurts when I laugh or I can feel the warm wells of water form in the crevices of my eyes when I cry, but...it is brief.
I overthink everything, is this normal?
Though I swear that there was pure happiness. It was lasting and I lost it.
Please come back.

I can smell him on my sheets
      I can taste him in my dreams
             I can still feel every inch where he's touched me
I hear his laughter echoing in the walls
             I can still see him in all these pictures I saved for
           memories

But this bed is bare
My dream's a nightmare
       I can't hear
             His laughter
       He's not near
             Enough to touch
My eyes are blinded by tears
He's killed my senses,  
      I'm no longer aware

Everything around me,  slowly fading away
His face, his scent, his laughter,  his touch
Maybe I'll just pop a few pills and sleep away the day
At least he's in my nightmares, the pain of reality is too much

I FIND IT FUNNY HOW I THINK YOU WILL COME AROUND AND I CAN'T EXCEPT THE FACT YOU HAVE ******* ME OVER
EVERY TIME I THINK OF YOU I THINK OF ALL THE **** YOU SAID AND THE STUFF WE DID.
I REMEMBER THAT TIME YOU SEEMED LIKE A GOD AND NOW I KNOW YOU'RE MORE LIKE LUCIFER.
PLEASE GET OUT OF MY HEAD
I DON'T KNOW WHY I WANT YOU TO NEED ME LIKE HUMANITY NEEDS THE ATMOSPHERE.