Boy
Once again, I find myself becoming sad. Torn between upward movement and downward spiral, I let myself fall asleep. I keep on remembering your face and imagine the sweet smell of your cologne as you lay beside me. There is no sound except for the rustling of the bed covers and the slow song emitting from the radio.
But god how it fucking kills me to love you. There is almost nothing left to give because everything I have somehow ends on you. I am empty again. You say her name, over and over to me. You do not realize that her name is poison and I am a pure river. Her name ruins me; it destroys me. And I tell you to love her because she needs to be loved. But who will love me? If I can’t smell your cologne. If I can’t hear your voice. If I can’t see the skin beneath your shirt. If I can’t listen to the dreams you have. If I can’t believe that you are anything more than a fleeting and shimmering star.
Fuck you.
Fuck the stars.
