I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul,
The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me,
The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I translate
into new tongue.

- Walt Whitman

Its for you that I take every breath
Now that youre gone how do I face death

Interesting.
The mad mans thoughts

I wake up sleeping with insomnia..

Seasons come and seasons pass,
Life's beneath a looking glass.

She dying, she is dead? Who is next, who will lie in that bed?

Push it hard, and run it deep

Let those who dont understand me fear me, let those who understand fear themselves

You act like the sky is falling when its only a twig

The pain will haunt me in my sleep, but its not like i can cause myself harm right?