A room within a room...

Call it magic,

call it true,

I call it magic

when I'm with you.

And I just got broken,

broken into two,

still I call it magic

when I'm next to you.

And with all your magic

I disappear from view,

and I can't get over,

can't get over you.

Still I call it magic,

such a precious jewel.

Unchoosing my choices...

The time has come to detox. To extinguish some of my recent questionable decisions and redeem what is left of my throbbing heart. I need to let go of my obsessions, from running to you when I'm lonely, to running just for the sake of it - until I collapse under the pressure of my aching body, and that pain overshadows the agony of my soul being torn asunder. Who would have ever thought that the journey I embarked upon would lead me to this moment in time, to this crystal clear realisation that in fact, I haven't actually moved an inch. As the universe prepares for its final seismic toss, I can feel my every muscle relax, as if they know fighting back would be utterly pointless, as if the battle had already been lost and not just begun. I wonder how long I'll last, and if I even have the strength to live without any of my shortcomings - without substances to keep me afloat, without love to keep me writing, without dreams to keep me going. What am I without all of those things? Do I even exists, and if I don't, does that mean I never truly will? I can honestly say that the answers make my entire body shiver, but perhaps even posing the questions is enough to get me through.

Can't stay away, can't fight it...

I had hoped you'd see my face,

and be reminded that for me it isn't over.

I don't want to be writing this, because I'm not even certain it's how I really feel. I guess sometimes words need to be written down, just to be sure they aren't fragments of my imagination, but raw truths secluded within the walls of my mind. You were my first try, and I know you've moved on, and you're happier than you ever were with me, and I know we hurt each other in ways that can never be taken back, and I know I said I've moved on and let go, and I realise you will never even read this - yet all of this can't stop me from saying that a part of me will always want a part of you. I think that's why I self-destructed any kind of relationship other than the real deal - I refuse to have you in any other form than the highest of bonds. One held together by a keen understanding of the other, and above all, a lust for the life shared, and the life ahead. I will miss you even when you shall long since forget my face. I will miss you until the end of my days.