The feeling of dread is unshaken, I'll send u so far it won't matter if you're fighting demons or kissing their tears. Or I suppose I could save you, I suppose I could kiss you again. For this hope refuses to die, but I'm better now, as I do not hope to be your lover, and the birds will help me wake up from this dark dream of unloved, abandoned feelings in me, and I'll escape to the light, find a firefly, and win this firefight. I do not hope to be yours, to make you smile, to make you happy. But I still want to, is it me failing to move on then? I could ask the voices inside me, and they'll wish me good luck while wanting to kiss your tears. Are you my demon? How could you be so beautiful, without being so magical, as if you were magical, you would choose to be with me - using ur magic you'd change the crashing realities of us. But you're too ordinary, and ordinary is what I needed, that's why it hurts more. That's why. I had hoped to make it a hopeful prose, yet I leave this in a dreaded feeling, and a wish that I won't write anything that could hinder me from reaching saturn - the beautiful calm. The one thing I need - far from you. Far from everything.
