Find faith in your faithless acts and then repent until the sorrow in your bones makes you wish to leave behind all the versions of your former self that linger against your best wishes. Look in the mirror and cry your tears. See the stains on your teeth and tell yourself that from now on you’ll live your life outside of other people’s expectations, or at least you’ll die trying. No failures, and no pretending, just you and your pain and the beauty of your breaking heart that will one day turn to dust. Before it does, maybe you’ll take a chance and be who you wish to be, or maybe you’ll stick with the comfort of being numb, just like those you claim so much to despise. This life is yours to lead. It comes, and it goes. From day to day and place to place, we exist, and then we disappear, and it’s so scary and fucking terrifying that just the thought of it makes my balls shrink to the size of marbles. But we are what we are, and death is death, no more, no less. From an acorn to a skyscraper. From a grain of sand to an ancient supernova. From the vision of your smile to the rain that blows in my face on the walk back home from the pub while eating my fish and chips, there’s a song that plays above the trees that knows me all too well. Succumbing to the need for a piss, I eat my food and toss the wrapper onto the hood of a parked car before unzipping myself behind a brick wall covered in dead ivy. Pissing out a day’s wages, I close my eyes and see you dancing somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow, and in my drunken state, I laugh and tell the sky above my head how much I love you, and how even though you’ll never know, it’s you who moves through each word. When no one else is looking, it’s just me and you against the world and what a rush it is to be on the brink of despair with you dancing in my heart.