You've Gone. With a trembling hand I reach for you Desperately deciding how best to touch Every aching bone in my body says "hard" My brain and my heart say "soft" I feel hopelessly useless and awkward In a room that shrinks with every breath A pressure builds under your skin I can feel it just above the surface of mine I am lost as to where my gaze should fall Because eye to eye has prove too tough The bones are back screaming never let go My heart breaks and aches because it must My brain rationalises it all as fate My eyes weep now with a terrible force And before I know it, between my body and I I've missed you. You've gone And now I'm alone.

Agitation She fumbled furiously through her rucksack. Sweat beading on her forehead and fingers slipping over her belongings, flinging them out of the way, searching. "I'm really not in the mood for this." she said to no one. Finding her cigarettes had always been hard for Mickey but the task had become some twisted form of torture today along with everything else that had happened. She was right, she was not in the mood. Only a smoker can manage to completely lose a box larger than the palm of your hand in what is essentially a giant pocket and only a smoker would let it ruin their entire day. Filling their daylight hours with relentless agitation and 'shitty' attitude.