I was nearly newWhen i started feeling youSlip through my fingersBut I kept looking throughEvery bit of you that lingers.-and, like having one, or twoSplinters(I saw no issue)In your split nervesOr the fewTimes you stayed-So I let you grow intoThese decayed tendrils,Who are blue,GrayedAnd cut through;If only to be conveyedAs someone whoWouldn't gut you too.


Puffing upI'm thinking AboutThe funeralAnd loving your ghostIn this infernalWay.I never should haveSet my praisesInto you.But I was so into youSo determinedI'd have died instead-And things were never(Meant to be)This deadEnded endeavor-And maybe I was clumsy,Tripping over you;But it was so comfy(The way that I would bruise)And sometimes I think because of meYou're goneLike the [...]