Like the wind that brushed my hair, you were gone in a minute, a second, a decade.
Like the fire that raged my eyes never to see the bright of day. Wasn’t really for me I guess. It just all...fell. I didn’t plan on you giving it back, so my question is, why did you? That precious gift was yours.

Like the water firmament housing me in, I thought it was beautiful. So cold, but so right. This precious night could never turn down.

Like the fore view of tomorrow that wouldn’t cave in, like the sun effortlessly living abundant glory.


Like the life that has never felt so gone.



As the moody moon dead center in the stars, the moody moon centered dead.

Like the life that has never felt so gone.