I Need To Live My Life In

Mistake, Mistake, Mistake. A Strange Word: Stinging, Somehow.

I Know What The Problem Is, Of Course. The Disorientation, The Distraction, The Difficulty Focusing - All Classic Phase One Signs Of Deliria. But I Don't Care. If Pneumonia Felt This Good I'd Stand Out In The Snow In The Winter With Bare Feet And No Coat, Or March Into The Hospital And Kiss Pneumonia Patients

There Is So Much Fragility In Kissing, In Other People: It Is All Glass.

Time And Space Recede And Blast Away Like A Universe Expanding Forever Outward, And Leaving Only Darkness And The Two Of Us On Its Periphery, Darkness And Breathing And Touch.

Everything Ends, People Move On, They Don't Look Back. It's How They Should Be.