Come over one last time...

I can’t believe I can’t spell believe. where to sir? How did all your feelings vanish so easily and mine rushed deeper and deeper? How can I tear out my eyes without blinking? what do I see in my hair that makes me wanna vomit? I feel burnt... I feel burnt into my very core... I ask you when you’re gonna be here and you say late!!!! how late exactly? one year? two years? How can you be so dead inside and yet my flooding emotions surround you secondly and then it’s gone... I have to be careful to keep them to myself next time, ‘cause I’m sure it’s what tickles any dead soul to arise as if they share it... No one could, no one would. It’s me... It’s me, the heart that beats lust every second and circulates love subsequently... Who can see it behind the ice cold look. Who would want to feel it now and again? I feel so dead and yet you want to come late... probably after the match... There is always a match and the winner takes it all while the loser has to fall... I wish there was a shorter passage to hell, so I could save my time rehearsing it. The letters are dormant in my head. I don’t even wanna bother arranging them to make a word. Loneliness is getting through to me and it might take my breath away tonight. I don’t wanna see the morning dark as the bed lacks the evening light. Who would guess that I’d be madly in love with a corps...