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{"The ruins of you lie in the dusk, 
shall we take this dance or shall we not? 
You Grace me with your presence though my ambitious trust has vanished and fallen from a Terrance, your hand extends though I do not take it in mine.
I retreat it and my sighs dismantle all else between us. My eyes glance down at the floor as I count the tiles because Mother knows the best, she told me and beckoned that I shouldn’t glance anyone in the eyes, holding it and containing it in the foul play. My sensations do not lie dead and I feel your eyes do a one-over from top to bottom and I know from the back of my mind what you have to say. I am imbalanced, unlawfully so, I am bipolar.
I can become a hypocrite and it only takes a matter of time before I dismantle all of my sentiments though my eyes cannot deter away from glancing at you once or twice and I saw the life inside of them that I have not yet witnessed on another person. 
They illuminate, they shun bright, and full of joy which I find myself envy towards it… my straying only takes so long as I devote myself on the ledge of a cliff while I propose and inquire that your devotion comes from an ultimatum of planting seeds in the soil and creating what god has already given us, your grip on the plants, the flowers were soft and gentle and I have forever wondered what it was like to be held like that, softly, gently, clement and forbearing. 
My hands swallow up the top-notch of my arm and grimace at the foul reminder of the bruise decaying against my flesh from pulling too hard- pushing others towards the ledge had to have consequences, my head falls and I have come to notice that the pinch of the dawn was setting and the astronomical pressure was conveying its initial shock and existence towards the ones who did not believe in it. 
Though that was particularly the only entity I believed to a full extent, the shock would surround us if we had been not forbidden to see who sets the sun and who makes it rise. 
The sun never falls, and the moon never strikes away, it just disappears and sets in dismay, if I were the sun as my father would call out, why do I fall instead of setting myself away, From the void, we are bound by grief, 
It tied a knot in our souls and subconscious, even when I sleep the demons still are continuous, they lurk in every corner ready to seize me away, or the pieces in my body that are left, as glasses that plummet into the surface when, once cracked, difficulties arise to stick them or collect it back together, our hands connect with it but it pinches our skin and we draw our flesh away from the sharpness it holds us in. 
My voice got more audible and louder as I trudged and reincarnated my inquiry with an arched brow. ‘Haven’t you killed it so gently?’ You were so gentlemanly with your words, how could you pluck its veins and force it to go extinct and lie dead in the palms of your murderous indicators? My mind was havoc when he called out to me with a sick smile etching his face,
"Haven’t they killed you too, even though you were so humane and you never saw it coming?’
They murdered you without warning,
that all you could do is produce the drops of salt lake moisture dripping from the hues of your skin, 
You walk into the darkness that is confiscating and it feels like a tomb placed on the top of your chest protecting your rights to inhale the breath that belongs to you yet they restricted, snatched it away, as everything. 
They took the life out of you and bounded your grief once more by tying a knot and allowing it to linger for an eternity, and there is no exit from that darkness, 
You let it slay you alive, 
Just so you could breathe 
Once more."}
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