You might ask where I've been? Why I have stopped writing? Or if I still write, but just not for you? But what if you don't ask at all. Or that I don't have answers.

Maybe there is no one out there. I just have all my words to keep for myself.

Great flames engulf the sky, somewhere in the night lightning threatens to strike. Dust threatens the dreams away, dawns come and go. Sometimes I drink, most times I smoke, when I think of you. Life has not got better, my back hurts now. I work hard. Not hard enough.

That I'm in love. Is perhaps true. Though it makes more sense when you say so. Even when you don't say so. So I forget what it feels like. Knowing that I know you're going to go. And I'll be left with my books and thoughts. When will this summer end?

It's been a while I've been to a river. The river calls me. It's been a while I have been left thoughtless, not caring, not wondering, and if only, not wanting. If only tonight could be different. An end to all. How wonderful it would, just me and you. No one, but us, committing murders or discussing new religions.

If only..