The rain now floods the bridge we stood so desperately between. the sky has lost
its color seperating the battered from the dead. almost close enough to kiss the
tears from your face as i lie beaten and unable to stand. remembering when we

said, "let's just sleep and pretend that this is never going to end." ten days
to come, three weeks to pass, and now she's gone again. the most delicate of
love shatters somewhere between the lines, somehow between the fights. and

sometimes the print drips ink that we'll just never understand. these gifts are
held in warning to them, and we can't forget, she's gone.