10:41 P.M.

It’s a great night outside.

I start looking at the stars,
smell the rawness
of air, as it crawls on
your estranged face.
my head feels slow,
a creature time-traveling through space.

Existing.

my eyes breathe
at their will, keeping my
hopes alive.

I am all lost,
into the nothingness of your existence.

I start hacking up the death
and you say,

“What the fuck?”

 

I die a little more.

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