an sos call

the end.
from this point on, i will never look for you again.
i will never wish to think of you, or dream of you or wish for you.
this infatuation hurts more than is healthy.
and the pain equates to misery which is fair to noone.
without you i am miserable at best.
because it was such a childish fantasy.
i never believed in league tables.
but now i fully understand.
i have transcended down below into the abyss of the atlantic.
belonging admist the freezing temperatures and endless canyons.
solitude is far from a reculse. as is loneliness.
masquarade the truth my dear,
i'll admit it's a case of the 'good old.'
apart from it is neither 'good' nor 'old'.
jesse knew.
'love is a risk and you'll always get hit out of nowhere and end up on your own.'
jesse knew.
jesse knows.
jesse. knew.
it was never fair. or easy. or simple. or happy all the time.
it could never last for.ever.
nothing lasts. for.ever.
there are no 'one more days.'
this.is.the.end.
as if an ephipone is to be reached.
it is the last day.
tomorrow is the last day.
yesterday is the last day.
today is the last day.
this story is old.
and it does continue.
but jesse. knew.
need you like watter in my lungs.
you were the dreams my heart held true
the inspiration for my downfalls.
naivity.
as much as i want to believe,
as much as the superstitions to dream true,
i'd have thought it'd be all too obvious by now.
i thought that this is what you want,
a funeral keeps both of us apart,
you know that you are not alone,
need.you.like.water.in.my.lungs.
this.is.the.end.