1000 cigarettes later into the night
the stars are out shining,
but something is still yet not right-
How can I reach out my hand
when my fingers are flames?
Surely you'll not see them
whilst blinded by the blaze.
And how shall you hear my voice
in some letters so fucking futile?
They know nothing of my tears,
They know nothing of my smile.
And all is still in the room,
and it's vacant of all life,
but the heart still blooms in full-
oblivious to all strife.
Lost love is such a gravity,
it cares nothing of what it has stole...
and it takes everything within it
no one can fight that fucking black hole.
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