way past the line by now the drenched heat filling up void there is no excuse i love her no matter the price we are on the verge of sacrifice a death to clean us of our sins to be born anew and in light we smile for the hope it would change for us even my mother or my father or my sister the new brothers and fathers and mothers here and far away i look forward to the day but for now the morning weeps my sorrow flourishes becomes much more distilled flow water hard to come by wishes that my death would cure this all and in the night they would be blinded by the thoughts of failure that they offered to me out of desperation hate anger lust things that matter little to the grand scheme of things what is a day when the duvet is the only place to stay and the only thing to keep her warm while i wallow too much my pathetic self-pity how long will this slide and how far will it go the noise at dawn where the people rise and shake there comes a time when i implode into a suffocating duffel of doubt and deprecation how much more would i endure how much more would she suffer there is no finish line just more plans and plans nothing more than just distractions like the hair that burns with pride my mother's shin hangs in gravity waiting for the amnesty she wakes up mioseon she wakes up sits there like a monk restless drunk with pain and suffering hoping that love reigns i am love is slowly melting how much more some more eight long months and we are together been through it all how much more i lost my child to her whims and i lost myself when i threw a punch at her and i betrayed my soul when i went to prison waiting for the decision and i killed what i once was when i forgave her of everything how much more much how of what we have we are relentless in the pursuit of pleasure how much more until the draught of sex and food and money consumes our very existence how much more until she wakes up and realises mioseon does not love me anymore how much does it cost and how much do i have to pay for the how much more is less more i love me my love me they love me he loves me she loves she it loves she loves money money money more money money i have none poor as fuck money where did you go i gave you to her to impress to showcase my potential to prove to her how much i love mioseon not just mioseon all the other ones before her i lost the love all gone all because of now the valentine the ailing the far away the russia the america the everywhere and nowhere my travels my suffering my mission gone in a hostel in scotland in a kitchen after we spoke her voice completely blank and all she wanted was to be loved like me but her end goal was to meet me somewhere else in due time how long ten years at most visa problems there is nothing more to add i give up this was the end of it i cannot imagine she would leave me hurt me scar me even when she tells me of her love and undying devotion what is it compared to when she is gone and when the waiting comes i do not have the patience and the endurance to survive a minute without mioseon we have been together for more than half a year now not a minute have we been separate except for the time i went to prison for her and even then i could feel my heart react like a volcano on red alert smoke coming out tears dried inside and heaven forbid she left me she left me for nowhere everywhere so she can recuperate my life is on hold my days are spent floating in dreams and nights shaking my legs biting nails and filling up the emptiness of my soul the soul with which every single one enlightens to feel alive good for themnot for me way past the line by now the drenched heat filling up void there is no excuse i love her no matter the price no matter the consequences no matter how far love show me extraordinary be nice no matter what and then she breathes loud and lies in bed sad
Dark, darker, darkest, there is no difference. All hurts the same. Pain, everlasting, lingering. Pain, day and night. The hours are uncertain. Anything can happen now. Thinking about it hurts. Truth is unreliable. The romance is dead. My heart, it is lost. Unrecoverable, hateful, distrusting. Wishful, perhaps, but I have lost everything before and survived still. This one was special. So special. Embittered, the tip of my tongue tastes. The flavour of my life. Cuisine of kitchens unwanted. It burns, to the heart. I do not understand. I do not understand.