hello? can you hear me? i've been meaning to say something even if the signal's not pretty. i don't think i can do this anymore.  i've grown tired of the city where my screams tend to evade me,  my confessional streams  poured all over the polished floors  until i ran out of dreams- i need a getaway across the seas; somewhere deep in the country  where i can still feel a breeze;  a breath of dying somewhere pretty  as if i carelessly ripped out a page  out of my half-written biography  that takes up too much of my head  until they all cooperate to collaborate  into my nameless anthology but how can i craft such a thing  when i'm not even dead?