2005-07-04 -- 12:42 a.m. Thoughts reside, Now only resonating in my head, Stabbed through the heart, Jammed into your chest, Relief I find, With hand, held upon the scythe, Boney white fingers held. Stand with but an inch left to the hilt, Can I push it any further? Do I have the strength? Will you pull it back out like you always did? Stinging red upon my face, Rub it in, For it once coursed through your veins, Now exposed to the out side world, Let it breathe the same air. Soon your world will turn from that, Stupid smoky gray, To what I lavish in, Black. But only for a moment, Soon your breath will cease, To my wildest pleasure, And I can take a chance, Off in to the watery world you’ll go. You’ll never flout, Just sink, To depths further then you pushed me to. And no matter what, I’ll be happy, Something about this world absent of you, Even if we never talk. This act will only make it better.