The hospital i saw that night and the fluid that drowns your perfection. The way they tortured you while you were subjugated. An empty space in the bottoms of blocks of cemented oblivion. A solid solution to the reason of your visit. A hand made thank you made for them from your blood and some bladed happiness. These lungs that you can't breath through due to the sickness they hand you. A sharp object you used too severely. The blade that follows a path it never should have crossed. A phone call no one wants to recieve. The knowledge of an unsure mistake. I missed by one minute, and had to revive an object i hail to the death of. All the questions I had no answers to. Revulsions towards the antichrists you had to contend with for so many years. 49 drops of saline dripped from my heart for so many hours. Waiting for the response to our future. Some tears that were shed because of a happy ending.

I think it should be a poem. Some of the sentances just didn't flow right, but maybe they weren't meant to.

It's an interesting piece, but I'm sure having a hard time figuring it out. :(