No matter how cool you think you're, you will always look stupid in the picture they show when you die.
I'm no thunder, perhaps just a bolt silently shining, right behind the moon. All the bats flatter their wings and sing their silent song on these hills. I look across from where I'm standing just to fall to your feet.

My mother wasn't a sailor, my father wasn't the saviour, nor God, or Jesus. So we are simple beings, a drop of water on a horse's back, on a fighting stallion running angrily through the night.

It is not easy, and it isn't hard. Perhaps a beer or two will do just right. I wish I was cool but only God knows how many times I've kneeled before him singing the saddest of songs. My sorrows are just like the ones a rock might have, unimportant, clouds passing through the sky. And yet they feel so rotted in my soul. I wish I was different. 

Other people will be happy while we are not, that's beautiful and unfair. People will love while we grieve loosing each other. Kiss while we desire our bodies. I both recent and applaud people that are in the verge of falling in love for now I stand in an empty building. Contrary to my accusations -the ones I make to myself- I don't build things just to tear them down. I nourish them in hopes they'll live forever. 

The child we had was the love we built in the space created between us. In the small air cavity that only exists when we hug and press our chests together, that small circle, where our sternums cannot reach each other, that is the world we've created for us made of ourselves.

And even tho I'm miserable because I miss you I also feel a deep sense of hope, like walking away has given me power. As if by making the choice to leave you my future automatically changed. I will mourn you as I have grieved the dead so many times before and the saddest part is: I will survive and one day I won't feel sad and although happy to have touched you I will not thirst your skin.