I feel like I’m losing you.
Maybe it’s childish, or pathetic.. but maybe my biggest fault was not voicing my feelings for you soon enough.
Perhaps out of fear and naivety, but I suppose hind sight is always the clearest vision.
I try every night to get you off my mind and I fail every time, so here I am, trying to deal with another sleepless night.
Not writing this to make you feel sorry for me, but rather to get **** off my chest, in the hopes that perhaps I’ll finally get some sleep.

With teer soaked pillow cases
And broken glass painting the room

Washed clean with liqour
And covered over with ash

A beautiful sadness now speckled our minds,
When petals fall and flowers die
Rivers still run and the sun still sets,

But the stars look down and with sadness In their eyes,
For the sunset will never be the same, without the moon by their side

How can I feel like this once again,
Like I’m falling through the floor I thought was made of stone.
I came so far but on closer inspection perhaps I’ve been going in circles.

I appear to have lost my way, stumbled on my way out of the woods,
And lost myself in the night sky.
Perhaps I stood too long looking up at the stars.

Well I stopped to smell the flowers and the world passed me by.
A great wind knocking me down to my knees again, just like old times, old friend of mine.

The air is toxic,
These brown paper bag clouds
Clogging up our lungs
We wash our ash covered feet
But it’s seeped into the bloodstream
Trickling down into a much larger lake.

So we take the plunge
Swimming in the lake of serotonin
We dive down deep and admire the fish,
Such bright coloured fish relaxing at such depths.
Everything is better down where it’s wetter,
But with lungs not gills
We all have to come up for air.

We resurface and time has moved on
The air is getting thick now
And buildings have crumbled.
Entire generations of degraded graduates
Emerging from the thick mud of the banks of the lake serotonin.

How is it that we can be,
so far apart like islands drifting at sea.
Well the waves are getting bigger and
we've never sailed out quite this far before.
So forgive me for asking who's steering this boat?

Tossing and turning late at night,
more than a single drop of solitude.
It'll wash away that sunset leaving a foggy
clouded mess that melts into this storm.

Why do we do this to ourselves,
drowning in liquid confidence
like a broken ship trapped in a bottle
so very far out at sea.

Well I’m backed up against this weeping window pain for yet another night.
Looking through it but never too far off into the distance,
Where once I could see a flickering candle light,
Dancing delicately with the wind,
I now see black once again.

A depressing default of stationary sickness.
This black awakening rises up once again.

I miss living my life,
back when smells weren’t polluted, diluted by oceans.
When sparrows dived and swallows would fly.
catching the day on their wing,
a perfect dance across a broken mind.

But how many lives will it take for me to be happy?
how many memories of songs and poems?
of long chats and short walks.
of star kissed nights and sun touched skies.