I suppose I am back to my formlessness now, and I will lie here in the shallow depths of my jaded soul, in all hopes of one gaze that will only ever avoid me.
In all hopes of a fire that encircles me, but will never close in and scorch my skin. In all hopes of feeling the blood inside myself circulate, though my flesh is still pale with a slight blue-ish tint.
In all hopes of nothing becoming of me, though people seem to remember my name. You being the only one who seems to have forgotten it entirely.
Though I understand completely. If I could, maybe I would forget me too, but being so alone all the time only reminds me of myself. The voices in my mind remind me of you.
So I shut them out. Now, they have resided in various other parts of my soul, eating thier way inside from the weakest points of my insignificant being.
They are filling in the holes where the water leaks, though I don't mind drowning inside myself. It distracts me from reality, though reality has forced my eyelids apart.
Yet still my heart begs to differ.