the little details that matter/ the little moments of
relative silence

questioning myself/ my illusion of love & freedom

the little/ merry tablets/ prescription downers that
heal

the welcome absence of/ utter panic & the laughing shadow
of a broken soul

time does not stop anymore, does it?

is it the sound of my gentle fall that makes you
need me even more?

how will I survive this?

this war is mute
and hollow