Ink pours out of his pen like the soul from my heart.
And like the ink to the paper, my soul goes to you.
What about my salvation?
I could try again to list what you mean to me.
I don't have that much time.
But no matter what, the tears sting my eyes.
I find there is no cure for this salty residue.
I pretend to see you in my bed and act like you hold me.
I smile about a mile wide but then it leaves just like I did.
I need to calm down so I try to take a deep breath.
So unsatisfying.
I wish I coud feel you breathing but you're too far away.
I'd do anything to feel you breath.
I wish we'd breath together.