A rainless part of twelve. Cold doesn’t seem the same anymore. And now, again I stand where I once stood.
The same, but just so different.
A few more days. Then it would have been a year. Ravens shriek and robins sing. And I miss the fire of the stars. 66. Should have got further.
The name’s Bond. James Bond. And then we all fall down.
To the end of the bottomless pit.
How many special people change?
Do they remain the same people? Are they still special?
If so, then why were there never any phone calls?
Why couldn’t there be any conversation?
“Yes darling, everything’s fine. I’m ok. How have you been?”
Senseless. Pointless.
“No, I’m not sleepy. It’s the drugs.”
Hurtful. True.
Click. Light. Drag.
Over and over.
Till everything is on the other side of the haze.
And if you concentrate hard enough, the voices stay there too. So you listen to none except the ones in your head.
“No. It’s not coz I was avoiding you.”
Lies.
Mine.
Songs that sing themselves.
Why have you forsaken me?
God doesn’t forsake any of his children.
And then darkness claims the fire. And she dances away happily into the cold.
And I know these voices in my head are mine alone.
“Don’t isolate yourself.”
I’m not. I’m jus isolating everyone else.
And they all fall down.
I just go higher. And higher.
What goes up has got to fall.
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Not again...
I can't let it all happen again...