You came here. 
Then you went over there. 
Right back over here. 
Then you leave me here and go over there. 

Where? Why leave me here? 
Desolate. No love. No air. 

That time or this time or another time again. 
I thought it a return. 
For love, not despair. 

Fumes for love. Toxic air. 

- Ruptes