July Burns Slow

[isaura]

My lungs feels like they're being squeezed in a hot fist and I can't catch my breath. I keep telling myself that I have to sleep on it, that I have to clear my head. My head is so full of noise, though. Underlying meanings and several thousands truths are coming at me. The "what ifs?" hadn't ever crossed my mind, but after tonight, I'm left with the "what now?".

"Ok. Miss you."

There goes my heart again.