Fail

I have failed ten and twenty times. That luck works in reverse with me and that we are burning the bridges, ain't a secret.

The candles for me have been lit and then blown by children with laughter and slow walk. 

Now I have the chills.

This year may as well be the last because what is in my veins is cement and my mind is numb in smoke. And my demons only keep me afloat for their own fun and need.

I want to give in, leave a letter, close my eyes, and fall. Even when I am terrified of the white colour fears on my chest and tremors in the heart. Even with the days of emptiness. That are naps in the bathtub, old converse, Lana del Rey on the phone, green leaves and fighting to think to exist.

To achieve and fail.

And living with that fear is to refuse to create memories, to breath. I need a break that lasts three lives, that can help me deny the rancid moments and lose the reason.

T.A.