old stuff..

i miss you. oh how i do, i wish you were here, your lips, interwined with mine, your hands touching mine, your sweet breath on my face; it's slipping through my fingers as the time goes away. as i get older and get closer to my last breath, have done nothing,have regretted everything,have loved few, looking back i have realized how much time i have waisted, how many have i hurted, ignored, lost.....i miss you...only i know how much.

Talk with myself..

you hurt the thing in the outside to kill the one in the inside, how many  times have i tried that and found the inside getting stronger. I pray for the courage to keep on , but the inside often tells me that  i am not strong enough.but i beg to differ because slowly but surely im learning to cope with things that make me unconfortable that demostrates me that i am strong enought because it demostrates that no matter what happens i have the willingness to look up and keep on with life. thats when you realize when you are strong when you cope and just keep on.

thoughts.

Not enough air.

That's how i feel.

No where to go.

Nothing to feel.

No worries.

No nothing.

Just empty space.

That swallows me.

Whole.

That burns me slowly.

But surely .

And it has become a part of.

Me.

Dark, hollow,deep.

Not enough air.

thoughts..

Death is pain and ejoyment. 

Is slavery and freedom .

Is the beginning of the end.

Is the stop pto the start.

is the biggest challenge of them all.

is the second the world stood still.