Alone, searching endlessly, you're looking for a home in transiency, searching for compassion in apathy. Day by day, you fall farther from your vision and your hopes of what the future would hold for you. Now abandoned, you see only what is now out of grasp, and want it back. I've seen your words, and now you claim that you are in a better place. Reaching out to give you one last breath - a second chance that didn't mean
a thing. You can't take it back. Know that you chose this; we'll never be the same. There is a clock in heaven with the hands on four and twelve, the time of your last breath, the hour when you lose your sense of self. Broken like a record stuck in the same second,
you repeat yourself until there's nothing left. Breaking down, you've fallen short of everything you said you'd be, the heights you said you'd reach. So much for second chances, so much for making amends. Another dose, and you are running towards your end. I see your wrongs for what they are: a sign of what's to come. Inside, I know that you didn't mean it all, but you're too far gone. so drink your hollow fill to set yourself apart. The spirits won't set you free. Retreat and run, fall become numb. They'll rip you apart.