deep breath, deeper, deeper yet, deeper than the ocean of your

eyes that keep calling me home, calling me back back to the

light and dark are all the same but i never claimed to be good at telling them apart anyway, both of them remind me of

you, and it's you. god, it's always been you, except when i needed it to be me, and i'm sorry i couldn't see past the mildew and mold growing inside

my heart. it hasn't been used much anyway, not since...

the last time that we kissed i swore that i wouldn't ever allow myself to breathe in the air around you again. it's kind of like the apocalypse, except it isn't just you and me

and there always seems to be someone

better than the last time and worse than the first time and i just want to plant our garden in the backyard, but the frost came late and now all of the

tomatoes are dead. tomatoes are my favorite, but i can't taste them

past the burning, past the aching, past the longing, i'm almost numb.

almost.