I'm scraping on the outskirts of this heartbleed city. The place where people go when loves luck is lost or losing. I don't think anyone plans to go there, it just happens. Things like this- happen. A swirling motion. Downward spiral. Even if you try to stop it, aching still grabs a hold. It just does doesn't it? Inevitable when your adoring organ is invested.

Then you have the loved ones, siblings, friends, aunts and uncles (you haven't seen for years) and any other person who wants to feel like they have been ever so sufficient in your life. They suddenly bear weight? When misery is highlighted? Wanting to 'be there' trying to draw you back to existence to the realness. Fuck it, head for inner bleed city. Their actions pair to the toxic inhalation of some ones last cigarette, it's never the last. This isn't the last...

They're either guilty or wanting to look immaculate, either way you've rid them for now, haven't you? The only problem is the decent ones (maybe a handful) get lost here too. Cut off all emotional attachments and succumb to the city trees that are bleeding rose red apples. The trunks are dripping mahogany.

A number of lifeless eyes are now picking at those apples. These poisonous fruits are full of doubt. You begin to follow. But if you bite into, well then you're...I'm snow white, and I'm lacking the seven. Or the one...

Charming.

Charming, he's fading. That's why you're...I'm here, in this heartbleed city. This is about you? Isn't it? Yes. It's about you. Not me. Please don't let it be about me. It's your bleed, someone else. Not me. 

You can't go back just yet. The river isn't full enough with tears, saliva, blood, urine and any other wretched fluid that flows uncontrollably when a heart is breaking. When you're breaking in front of me.

Monitors beeping. My reality? Then the fairy tales.

Reality. Then the fairy-tails?

A permanent bedsit for me in this heartbleed city?  Only time will tell. Please, Charming wake up. I'll never be a witch again.