tricks of the trade.

i couldn't have done this without you.

this life. even thinking of you makes me feel alive, and i'm jealous of the truth for being so sheer and blunt when all i am is sharp and catching.

some nights, i can't believe you're gone. it's all different knowing that. it always will be.

but i picture that light through your hair and the daggers in your eyes. i fall in love all over again. no one had that but you. no one bit through the surface. and no one looks like you.

shuddering at the actuality that this mass of ripping and tearing and thought-revoking madness is truly a life to call my own, i don't want my hands to be dirty anymore.

but nothing's doing the trick, and no one will help me into this shallow grave. god help me.

remember when you would lift my chin with only your index finger, and our eyes would meet? remember when all this bullshit meant something more than rolling out of bed to meet the worst? remember when we meant every word?