I produce a tangle of words smeared on the screen, creating a collision of hope, rage and belief, out of words that meant nothing outside of the scene, I've created in my mind. My pixelated dream. Tinted with roses and clever gifts. Hailstorms rising above my horizon, climbing ever upwards to the unknown. My station of longing for someone like you, and beating myself up when dreams don't come true. I leave scars and celestial debris, my neurons misfiring endlessly, to a universe where I have become God and ungodly, where we all die as one. Out of a million trillion possibilities, just let there be one where you care about me. I point the finger at the skies, and lay blame on passing clouds, for rain seeping into my untethered soul, that misalign my heart and will. I saw conquering you as a mere cheap thrill. I didn't know I'd fall for you. Give a shit what you wanted to do. Played along like you'd want me to, and suffer grief only gods go through, in winters that covered my heart like your dark hand, and from dark calls, weave words that entice me but mean nothing at all. I walked through time. I've never been home. I carved out a space for you, if you're ever alone. But I know that you're not, you're already gone, and I know I can't stop you. I love you. So long.