I told myself, I wasnt going to do anymore without him,
But then I decided, I would waste away just the same, without him.

I fooled myself into believing that I love him,
But then, I made it impossible not to think of him.

I used to think general thoughts,
But now, to me, those thoughts are lost.

I used to be neither happy, nor ever this sad,
But then, I met him, and I wish I never had.

Never was I satisfied with a title so frivolous as "friend",
But then, it became a majic trick that I could not mend.

Since then,
I have done lots more without him,
I have thought endless seas about him,

I am now, so viciously wrapped in sollice,
And I do not recognize these emaciated wrists.
This dizzy head rush when I stand,
This effortlessly emaciated capsule of what I am.


This crystallized heart, that bleeds nor feels for any one.

This inhuman thing, whose darkness manages to brilliantly color a mood ring.

I no longer know who I am,
Whose are these brittle, boney fingers?
Pathetically though, forever will I know,
that love for him still lingers.