8am Yesterday, 8am Tomorrow. Poem by Nico Campe

Its early in the morning and I've never hated breathing in and out until i opened my crusted over eyes.
My head is full of frozen memories, kept in a place i can't get.
We all know that if i was to grab at these desperate attempts to have a past, then i would be the most dangerous version of myself, one who understands.
Good news, i don't think of you anymore unless i need an excuse, i don't write about you anymore unless i need inspiration and i don't talk to you anymore unless I've had too many.
I don't even hate you anymore, until i need someone to blame.
It seems I've been inhaling deeper lately, the smoke reaches a far less familiar portion of my lungs, it surprisingly hurt more then one might think and at the same time i find it so comfortable.
I coughed so loudly that day, so much that i wasn't sure if you would ever want to see me again, I'm an embarrassed composer hoping no one is listening to his pride take form in music written for someone else.
I'm a convenient tale being spread from lip to lip, the most ungraceful story sliding across the minds of people who i will always question.
and yes,
i will always question.
The unclean tips of my fingers burn as the tale reaches my ears. i inhale deep.
Sentimental feelings rush back to me every time, but this time its in a much staler state.
I listen with such excitement, expecting a turn or twist but the story has lived out its life Now and no longer provides me with any stimulant. I've lost interest in who i used to be, I'm not even that curious to who i may become after this morning.
I grab my drink and look into the cup as the warm clear liquid, left from the night before thoughts, slithers down my throat.
The soothing yet burning sensation that arrives shortly after reminds me of a frozen memory, one of myself sitting in communion.
I'd sit and listen to a scared man tell me stories of why he is scared.
I promise i will not be that. I'd rather be much more convoluted and pretentious.
It makes it easier on everyone who makes the choice to lose their appetite for me.
I miss some people more then you will ever know and i will never know how to miss some people.
That is why I'm to remain frozen as everyone keeps moving, while i stand still clinging to the idea of looking forward and hoping i can reach tomorrow without coughing.
I take a deep inhale and stand out of bed.
its early in the morning and I've never hated breathing in and out until i opened my crusted over eyes,
i should have slept longer.