1 Hour Left

i confessed things i couldn't speak about in those moments. the way he talks now is the kind of hope that sounds hopeless. i'm not happy. he'll be here soon! after weeks of no physical contact, he'll be here soon! after two fights, he'll be here soon! after my confession, he'll be here soon. it feels like one of those cancer charities, one last wish. it feels like i'm waiting for things to stop while the earth still revolves around the sun. am i doing this to myself or did i reach my end? i don't know. but he'll be here soon and maybe i can cry in his arms. maybe he'll say pretty things and my mind will clear from the ugly things. i have the kind of hope that makes me sound hopeless. touch me, taste me, tell me i'm not fading.