I breathe out as I count the ribs Three on each side which in turn makes six

I'm reading through the old messages wondering where you hid My bed was cold enough with you a state away, but now both the bed and the screen are freezing

When I was young Christmas came every year but I didn't know what it was

I watch the candle of my life before me its nearly gone out many times before

broken crayons litter the floor half-finished drawings scatter the dirty walls

this is simply a piece of writing, and not meant to be taken seriously

I can hear Christmas music outside my window

I picture us making breakfast with one or both of us wearing the marks from the night before with flour spilling all over the counter as his hands find my hips and his lips find my neck

feel the heat against your skin the spark against your fingertips

My ribs have given up on me they press against my lungs as my chest caves in

Once a demon met an angel, and she was all he'd ever wanted and all he'd ever need Finding his broken pieces she led him through the dark

no one tells you how addicting the first cut is how much the shower stings after you've fought with a blade