I've attempted to drown my sorrows by playing Mozart Quartet Radio on pandora, in the background of a hot shower, as the bath water overflows all my sorrows swim afloat.. Punctuation is key when trying to get a point across, and mine's is always off by a few dots...., or so you say... My soul is marked by a never ending series of ellipsis's ... they just go on and on.. Forever ongoing they are. And I have to stop beating my head against a wall, because so many times I've tried to think of different ways to get the same point across. There's only so many ways a person can get their point across.. but my point always floats and never fully makes it's way across the ocean of preconceived notions you've made up in your mind. Tell me, is this the grand finale for the illusion of love we've made for each other, of each other. I don't know, darling. My soul is drained because I've given you all the parts of the brain, body, and soul a woman can ever give without losing herself. I've waited for your letters but they never did arrive. Are you busy chasing tails for head and haven't had the time to send them to me? I've lost all hope... every last ounce of it. Time has jaded your memory... your absence has my present troubled so much that I can't see your presence in my tomorrow's. Purposefully or unwillingly, you've tainted your memory... and the thoughts of you no longer inspire, they just drain my soul. Visiting your forums leave me so nauseous. Oh, I can hear your voice in my cranium saying I've read into it, but if that's the only form of your presence to be felt, tell me what else is there really to it.. So i just turn my face and pretend it didn't hit a nerve but in reality it hit a couple. Some words aren't easy to digest especially when you find yourself eating at the table all alone... "I always take you as you are, every time you come and go, for the minimalist piece of you is better than none at all". Yeah, those are just words for the sake of poetry and romance, but chivalry is dead and I am not Shakespeare. Somethings need to said and we are in different rooms surrounded by elephants. Too many times it felt like you're more comfortable with the tragedy. Well, thank you for the tragedy because it was great for my art... but that's it. Tell me there's more to love .. people say life is a series of moments: What get's us through moments are the thoughts and commotion of other moments.. but all my moments have been paused for way too long and the only direction they go is backward... and never seem to move forward. So you'll discuss patience like it's a virtue, and perhaps it is, and I bet you'll say it was never one of mine..and you're right. Because i'm all out of patience. All out of patience and out of hope. And once there is no hope, there is nothing. Nothing at all... So I'm left with what I had and where I began.