I mean...

I'm sorry if I've been remembering you lately, but these ghost just appeared weeks ago. You show up when i sleep, and what am i suppose to do?.

I assume it's only because I'm sad, I mean depressive, I mean life has no sense right now and the oxygen its free.

But these memories follows me since that dream, and they become bigger as this depression, I though i could handle it. But i think im just 'a little unsteady, i guess i was just running away, and i got tired. Let me breath.

But don't worry, i mean you won't, i mean these are just words ordered to make sense in some language, i mean these could be the number Pi if we change letters for numbers. I mean its just a probability.

We are a probability.

We are one in a million, i mean why let them die instead of us, i mean I'm not good at making choices. So I'm just gonna lie on the floor and bleed for a while.

I'm sorry if i bother, but life becomes rough, well it was always rough. I think you were my morphine.

Now i go to places i used to be fine, and those places don't feel that fine anymore, i mean something is missing, i mean i feel nostalgic, i mean i fell in love with nostalgia.

Maybe i get drunk when i feel lonely, I mean i get drunk a lot. I mean i have a lifetime subscription on the brewery with a really hard cancellation policy that includes you.

I'm sorry, i don't know what I'm doing, i mean is this me in a poem, i mean is this even a poem?, A letter?, A suicide note from a fucking dysfunctional disordered human being?

I mean I'm sorry, i have to go, the voices are screaming loud, and they will make me ruin everything again.

I mean *Message Deleted*