I Will Be The One To Leave

All This Hoping For Something- Or Someone- That's Maybe Hopeless. I'm Having A Hard Time Processing What I Am Supposed To Believe, Or If I'm Even Supposed To. There Is Too Much Information, And I Don't Like A Lot Of It.

We Gather The Things We Learned, And They Don't Nearly Add Up To Fill The Space Of A Life. You Will Miss The Taste Of Froot Loops. You Will Miss The Sound Of Traffic. You Will Miss Your Back Against His. You Will Miss Him Stealing The Sheets. Do Not Ignore These Things.

The Older I Get, The More I Lose My Ability To Breathe.

The Mistake Is Thinking That There Can Be An Antidote To The Uncertainty.

I Am Breathing. In Dreams, We Never Bother To Breathe.