Stop

With the matches.

First kiss that I could drown in, but it was full of alcohol and useless dreams. It was full of all the things that nightmares are made of and maybe that's why you shut me out. But it's alright because I'm all grown up now and those sad eyes that matched yours are even sadder. And all the dreams I had I threw into the fire and fused new ones but every once in a while my new dreams burn me and all I can do is choke back the tears with silence.

I know you want me to be happy but it's difficult to achieve that happiness when your dreams are built on misery and all you want to do is bleed to let tears the flow--to ease the pain of being human. You saved me but then you knocked me down but that's alright because I learned a while back that you can get back up and nobody cares. Nobody cares if you stand, fall, flop or die as long as you don't get in their way. As long as you don't become a problem because that's when they shoot you. They do it on a Thursday, while you're away chasing dreams. They tell you that it's nothing. That they'll be back, that it's nothing. You trust them don't you? You have no reason not to trust them do you? And then bang bang they shot you like a Tarantino film, except this time it's not funny. This time you don't see the humor in it. It's more like that sad tune that always makes you cry, the one that you carry in your heart. The one that haunts your dreams and doesn't let you sleep at night, because you had other dreams in mind. Dreams that would let you bleed to levitate the pain and float the memories. That's how it happens and there is nothing you can do about because when she left she took all the good memories with her and left you the bad ones. Don't hesitate to write her, I'm sure dead people still read. Read it in an article somewhere, just can't remember where.