The April sky had deepened through a year of day and nights. A miracle once smiled nervously, now a fool who stares questionably. I grief in regret amongst this dusty room and hope to remember the good times before he actually knew me. Before he knew crystal. When thinking straight was simple. It seems as if explanations hasn't been making any sense. Now almost impossible to talk to, in fact, how expert with silence.
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I clasp my hands in the form of prayer every night to save me from this hell loop. Yet I succumb to sin every chance I get. The air has turned from musty to toxic and the room has gotten even more untidy than it originally was. There're grains of white speckled sand on the bed and an insect crawled on me. It's getting disgustingly wild though he sleeps soundly next to me, probably dreaming weird and lighting up the fire again when he's up. I fear love lost as soon as won. And there is no end to this regret.
