I hear sweet nothings, how non substantial
Special thoughts swirl and fester within thy mind
Blended with morbid prospects, what a hindrance
My tolerance to hearing my own heart palpitating is lacking
Passing by, time extending to what feels like eternity
Is it insanity? Why do I feel necessity, all for thine composure?
That closure thou oh so wishes for, does not exist
Dismissed dry tears and a closed mouth
Exposed mire that I continue to hinder
How useless, the itch still remains
Those arbitrary pains unrelenting
Weeping as I ponder about thy singularities
Appetency, imaginably lacking the capacity to resist demise after all.