When I die,
write me a lullaby.
Sing me to sleep,
with a breathtaking melody.

When I am ready to fly,
let me go and do not cry.
Just let me flutter my wings to the beat
of your awe-inspiring harmony.

So, when I die,
please write me a lullaby.
Play it aloud, gently,
then everyone will have known the sound of me.

Forgive me, for my years.
Perhaps I am just nine short of knowing the rhythm to which your heart beats and having the ability to match it.

Forgive me, for my legs.
I did not have, and still have yet to find, the strength I need to run to you.

Forgive me, for my words.
They were deceitful. I believed they could keep you close to me. But in reality, you have always been hundreds of miles away.

Forgive me, for my heart.
The poor thing loves too quickly. It did not see the big picture. For months, it's gaze was fixed solely upon your scorching glow, which was mistaken for a beacon of hope.

Tainted havoc ensue
from our imminent destruction.

We befoul each other's affinity
with the ruin of our past lives.

Together we spoil, destroy, and infect the air that devours us.

Coexisting is not an option
between

You,

Me,

and

Sympathy.

With you, I want everything.

I want to take chances.
Exchange side glances.
Stay up 'til dawn with talks,
filled with sarcastic remarks.

I want to trace the ***** of your nose
and measure the length of your toes.
I want hair and skin slathered with "I Love You's."
Political discussions over empty bottles of *****.

I want to whisper in the mornings and shout in the evenings,
how much to me you mean.

But you... You already know...

You see it when I take chances,
in every one of my not-so-sly side glances.
In my droopy eyes that I refuse close,
while I lose myself in your sardonical prose.

You see it when I admire your face,
only to view others following with disgrace.
My "I Love You's" will never run dry,
unlike those useless bottles.

Nothing gets me drunk quite like you.

Like you go back to those **** cigarettes,
I go back to you.
So go ahead, take a drag.

Watch me be consumed
with every inhale

and forgotten
with every

exhale

...

When I have fallen,
When I have hit rock bottom,
I need it to be
Your fire
That guides me,
That leads me,
Out of the chasm
Of my own darkness

Words disappeared,
and we were left with nothing
but the electricity.
It, too, fizzled into oblivion.