Life has become dull. No fears, or excitement , sadness lingers , but even it seems pointless afterwards. You , walked in , your hair dyed by the desert sun , and summoned my soul for it's slumber. I reek of cigarettes, I keep my distance. I drink my off brand bitter coffee , youre staring at me I know , I'm not as blind as you think I am . I close my journal , afraid that you'll figure out I've spilled you all over these pages. You are so lonesome , as as am I. I vanished , but you found me, without searching. Damn you. I sit on the opposite side of the room, you follow. You try your hardest to start a conversation and I , don't know how to respond . I vomit out my answers , idiot. You dont mind. He stares as I speak , I stare when he's not watching. There' has never been anything so beautiful , or so frightening. We watched the skydivers float to the ground , and I couldn't get enough of your laugh. The table is broken and the chairs are hard, but I'm so comfortable. This is It, what it musfeel like to be alive. I am a walking corpse my dear , I am deteriorating . I stink of negativity and loneliness . You are different, you shed such warmth , I am a broken furnace . I will never be the one that captures your heart . I am aware of this. It's enough to be briefly part of your life. Youve left now , I sit here contemplating, I seem to have dropped my emotions all over . It's silent, the cricket behind the fridge starts up, mocking me I'm sure. I try to imagine you drive away , with a smile on your face , thinking of me. Even that is impossible, as it quickly slips away. I am trying to fool myself, trying and failing miserably. It's a hot day , and I sit here , heart broken, yet in love . Miserably content. Confusing isn't it , yet there is one thing I am sure of. I am , here, and this sadness is a reminder that I am alive .