(023) nothing else left to prove

my last-ditch efforts to save myself have all failed.

help was never on the way.

it was in a dream that ended long ago, but the memories, he knew, would never end.

the sadness was too deep for any ordinary person to defeat.

and still, it's always growing. there's nothing else left to prove.

(022) when i wake up

don't leave me in the dark. i know you can see me here, but i can't see you. hurry up. it's getting cold. your voice is painful yet melodic and beautiful, but the silence is ripping me to shreds. when i wake up, nothing will seem familiar at all.

time will wrap around itself in one last effort to bring about change, but the world will have to wait for the sun to explode. i, for one, am excited.

(021) bleeding onto the paper

silence is at its most beautiful when i am forgotten about and left alone in my bedroom for long periods of time. my pen bleeds onto the paper, revealing my one true and faithful identity to myself. the words penetrate themselves deeply into my barren soul, and there, they start to settle.

and that is when love is planted like a seed into my chest, and at the same time, it is being conceived in my mind. finally, everything in the world starts to make sense, and i can go to sleep peacefully and dream about how i wish i will never have to wake up because nobody will ever have to make use of me again.