Just one more smoke and I'll go to bed, I swear.
All these childish feelings are gone. Why should I sleep when now
my reality is better than my dreams? Maybe it is distorted like the previous
one and you will leave me here in pure darkness holding a half-smoked cigarette
and a used, fragile match. I am halfway through now, almost finished.
You are an angel, but I always trust in angels, and there seem to be more than
just one fallen one. Each of them unique, white and innocent, but there's so much light.
You can't see their horns and broken wings in shadow. I was always trying to fix them, but
no one tried to patch mine who were ripped right off my back.
I never gave them away though. I threw away some feathers, but the bigger part is
locked away. Dusty. But if you deserve them, I will give them to you.
Although my body aches, I still want you to have it.
The stars still cry for my tragedy, but I continue washing them away.
The fields of light will be found only if you are willing to go through the abyss.
When you were born, the God of light stole a part of the oceans and put it in your eyes,
so I could find it and drown. It is fate. Now I know.
Now that all the smoke is drained by my lungs, I know I will stay.
As long as you need.
Goodnight Angel.
