Fourteenth!
Hey there,
Whatsup! You must be asleep. Maybe would've thought of me before you dozed off. Didn't think it was important to call. Or maybe it wasn't worth the risk. Maybe you're lucky to have a boyfriend like me. Indifferent. Comfortable. Sport. Maybe...
I guess I was all that. Until I lived today. A Sunday without you is obviously worse than a Sunday before you. Sitting by myself. Alone. I tend to skid further into the abyss. I'e started to like it now. The only gratitude being that at least were both alive. At least the somebody I chose to love is real. She thinks of me before sleeping. She must'e thought of me before sleeping. She might think of me when she's lost all hopes of us being together to exasperation. She must love me real bad to have taken the trouble of asking me how I was. Eventough it didn't matter. And eventough I lied about being okay and she went on with her "okay".
But when you have such moronous escape pathways as me the reality tends to jolt the conscious out of you. Sitting alone in the room. All alone. Not a whisper but my nonchalant breathing and a stubborn alarm in my head that goes off every minute forcing me to check the phone. The hollowness down my throat. The disorientation when I try to get busy. The ugly boy in the mirror. The stink of a freshly bathed body. The broke 23 yr old who ventured forbidden territories and dared to think that he was worthy of love. That loyalty and care and nothing but love was all that's needed to love and be loved. When it hits you how lonely you are. When having not born during the holocaust is the only good thing you can reflect upon. When the smoke and the spirits they all seem redundant. When the holy God himself can't pull you out of the black hole that's sucking your soul one breath at a time.
If you can feel me then you know where I am. No gimmicks here. It's clear as a crystal. I'm alone. And I'm waiting. For you to answer or just disappar. It's too much to bear.
Whatsup! You must be asleep. Maybe would've thought of me before you dozed off. Didn't think it was important to call. Or maybe it wasn't worth the risk. Maybe you're lucky to have a boyfriend like me. Indifferent. Comfortable. Sport. Maybe...
I guess I was all that. Until I lived today. A Sunday without you is obviously worse than a Sunday before you. Sitting by myself. Alone. I tend to skid further into the abyss. I'e started to like it now. The only gratitude being that at least were both alive. At least the somebody I chose to love is real. She thinks of me before sleeping. She must'e thought of me before sleeping. She might think of me when she's lost all hopes of us being together to exasperation. She must love me real bad to have taken the trouble of asking me how I was. Eventough it didn't matter. And eventough I lied about being okay and she went on with her "okay".
But when you have such moronous escape pathways as me the reality tends to jolt the conscious out of you. Sitting alone in the room. All alone. Not a whisper but my nonchalant breathing and a stubborn alarm in my head that goes off every minute forcing me to check the phone. The hollowness down my throat. The disorientation when I try to get busy. The ugly boy in the mirror. The stink of a freshly bathed body. The broke 23 yr old who ventured forbidden territories and dared to think that he was worthy of love. That loyalty and care and nothing but love was all that's needed to love and be loved. When it hits you how lonely you are. When having not born during the holocaust is the only good thing you can reflect upon. When the smoke and the spirits they all seem redundant. When the holy God himself can't pull you out of the black hole that's sucking your soul one breath at a time.
If you can feel me then you know where I am. No gimmicks here. It's clear as a crystal. I'm alone. And I'm waiting. For you to answer or just disappar. It's too much to bear.
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