Passage du silence

It is about the worst possible time, the more painful by far in my short life. Yet still hopes to find in a dream build. Unbearable and I feel alive, with the worst of the anguish, but standing up and reminding you again and again, between the lines tight and whispers night, I pass the time. That September 17 cruel, was the one who brought you out of my hands, you look away from me and I hid in a dirty apple crate. Still miss you every day more, four years of your game are a million needles in my heart.
 You're in a quiet place where no one hears your cries for help, just me, and not how to get there, not how to save and how to let go neither.