Trying to actively forget makes you fond of the ideas you solely want you to leave without a goodbye.
Doesn't it remind you of the time you were in love with death, he was an angel, wasn't he?
Such sweet caress, he held your face, promised peace and beauty
Peace for yourself, and everyone you've ever felt and ruined
You believed you already were a burnt corpse, darkening little nothingness with your mere touch
Maybe you still are a smear of the dark but so are dying stars, you didn't come to live here forever, did you?
You've lived long enough to wonder all these wonderful things, and perhaps you're still here just to yearn for the sand between your toes and salt in the air
Just for the sake of longing of skin tracing your heart and the corners of half bitten lies,
It's a my favourite enigma that you stayed for the lost dreams and breathless laughter, for lost sleep and countless tears, being alive for the sake of escaping in your own head
Pathetic aren't you?
Still the same old left over ash, wishing it was your lungs burning with the same vigour as your dying flare of hope for life and love
what would I possibly be without my fixer-upper constellation for family?
