Phobia.

Yet another night i spend in this valley of loneliness, sucking my own tears and sleeping until they have dried. Yet I am no longing you but wishing you were doing so I can feel avanged.

I dont miss you, but I want you to miss me. Somehow I will know this was all just a part of this game that cosmical entities were playing with us, like a piece of useless matter. Hear this tearless mourn so you can cry the tears I was pulled to cry when the anxiety was the only thing I ate in broken tablewares. Sipped without tears, for you, and for us, to become something beautiful, you and me, eternally, like two doves when they are finally done, recede not by our sides. Make this happening was not in my hands, was in yours, as we fall in love with the shine of the moon, never falling deep into ourselves. I love myself, most as I could love my own land, to feel free and cry in the vicious lap… Vicious of pain. There is no explanation of any phenomenal dead appeareances, I only see ghosts this night along my life, they pull me out of my cot bed and force me to cry all I barely try to retain. I feel my blood getting colder as I start to remember their expressions, the circulation stops, but I am not dead, they also have arrived at the top of my madness to show my that my time has not coming yet. To show me that you are still living…