somehow everything smells like
suffocation,
and everything around here is an instument of
suicide.

as far as perception reaches,
all there is is thousand ways to
slit your wrists, a thousand
places to hang yourself,
and a thousand reasons
why no one would care.

but then his face floats to the front of you mind,
and the death disappears.

he's less than a savior,
but more than a first love.