fucking postets

you were on my mind today, morbidity is a common factor for any endurance, the outright lack of you, too much, it's overbearing, and words mean less than nothing, they are shallow. nothing that i write will ever serve you well.
you will not burrow into light, only darkness, only bones, born dead, opening imaginary alternatives, imaginary memories, this is just a vicious joke, none of this will change a thing, how tragic to live on the edge of hope, only hopeless. reality is a cruel picture of fate withered and faded. i can't think of your face anymore, opening the wound is too hard.
i'm breathless, mind is numb. go back to sleep, i might see you once more when my mind is dead, when my eyes are dull.