There is only silence. The only comfort left after the shattering of a broken spirit. Everything else is vague and oblivious towards possibilities that are screaming with shadows of things that could have been, things that will probably never be. The isolation is drawing ever closer as nostalgia becomes fainter by the second; so if there ever was such a place where instead of walking, I should fly, it is seeping through my fingers like miniscule grains of sand. There is no longer a distinction between letters and numbers, only that they are the same in a sense of being brought together to form an incoherent vision of insecure thoughts and a reign of absolute victory from the other side. The side where I hear laughter, instead of comfort. Oh, those numbers and letters, whatever do they mean? I can't make sense...

Stay away! Pieces of puzzles scattered all around me, chewing through my skin like maggots on a corpse, consuming me, becoming me. Blurred. Blinded. Deaf. Lost. Where am I now? Is...this my bed? The sheets are frozen and I'm..wait...why can't I feel myself? I know I'm still here...hello?

You should stay, my love, you should stay. Noone will touch you. Noone will harm you, because remember, you cannot destroy what was never there. Stay, my love...

No! I won't be left here...stay away! Everything I know...everything I am...these vessels are still pumping...my heart ...beating... my body compressed against this sword of thrusting sanity...but, what? Yes. Oh, yes. Come back to me, walk with me, and the air will be ours to breathe again...take this sword...take it...take it...

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