Every damn song is welling up tears in my eyes. Every flash of a thought of you makes me ponder so hard. They say that the first cut is the deepest. I wonder: which cut is? You are my ecstacy. I'm drifting in the air, hanging like temporary helium, waiting the hours until I speak to you again. I turn memory's pages and I smile at subtle and simple moments we share. The smiles we once carried were authentic and constant. Minute of the clock chain the day's processes down, as thought of you are unable to be scraped off my mind. Rusty thoughts, they feed on shine of a new unscarred surface. Rejuvenation is consumed by humanity and misconceptions. Still, on the thread I hang, waiting for your presence at the bottom of the pit, catching me as I plunge with all my faith. A world of surrealism replaces a bubble of security, leaving us with jaded emotions. Like rust eating on skin, fungus rots into a fresh wound. The badness spreads like alcohol meets fire. Now, there is no turn-back and we've reached a dead end. So what do you decide on at this point until forever?

Despite of being in mid-air, I still love you very much.