Right.

Making up a poem right now.

_________________

Right

What is wrong?

What is right?

Answers hidden

In plain sight.

What is night?

What is day?

What is noon 

anyway?

What is black?

What is blue,

When there's nothing

Left to do?

What is up?

What is down?

Pain abundant,

All around.

Even though life

Has pain to bring,

Don't hurt others.

Do the right thing.

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Done in "I don't give a crap" format. Written in 3 minutes at 11:50.

I tried to fit a message into a crappy little poem. I just want the right thing to be done.

NOW FOR THE EXPLAINATION!

This whole situation is being executed in the worst way possible.

If we don't talk for a whole month, we'll obviously miss the little things we love about eachother.

Then when they're back, we'll want to shower ourselves in these things, because we missed them.

I think the proper way to do this would have been to keep talking, and not be involved.

So there's no obligation, no hassle.

We wouldn't have had to do anything, but we'd still be able to talk.

Oh, well, I guess it's too late now.

Fuck I miss you.

27 days 'till Earth Day.

27 days until I can stop falling apart.