Sundays.

Kinda getting more dreams, more thoughts, more maybes and more perhaps as I idle, as I stay in solitude and as I meet more people.

(And on some days I could really stay in bed and read all day.)

But then those lethal thoughts start coming in. 

I could've stayed in bed, with you, while each reading our own book.

I could've shared with you the anticipations and enjoyments of now, instead of the shithole I was in then.

But I'm actually still in the same predicament but I just have more time to deal, now that school is over.

I just wish that the connection we had would still be opened. But everything crumbled down the moment you decided to let things go.

You're like poison to my thoughts.