Wishes
It was funny; he thought how fast dreams could die.
He laughed, at how rain could hide that he was crying.
He chuckled, feeling that sick heartbreak.
He smiled, his heart being struck by thorns as he drank something strong.
It was pretty amusing, as his eyelids drooped and his grip on the bottle loosened.
He felt silly, dizzy, as the world started to fade to black.
His head throbbed as he laughed at himself.
After all he'd gone through, he was still in love.
His heart was broken in two, but he couldn't help it.
Even when the bottle fell from his hand and shattered as it hit the floor, it was still funny.
But as his eyes began to close, his laughing became crying.
He wished things could've worked out.
He wished he didn't have to wonder what his other was doing.
He wished a lot of things, but what he wished the most, was that he wasn't dying right now.
He wished that he had a larger hourglass.
He wished that the sand wasn't slipping from his fingers.
He wished he wasn't sliding away.
He wished so, so hard that a light didn't wait at the end of the black tunnel that filled his vision.
He wished he hadn't heard the door slam open.
He wished he hadn't been seen like this.
He wished he hadn't heard that distressed cry.
"England?! England!"
He wished he hadn't felt someone else's warm tears fall onto his face.
"England, oh god. Oh god, oh god."
He wished he didn't feel those large hands envelop his own.
America had wishes.
He wished that England's skin would stop getting colder,
That his eyes would stop growing blanker.
He wished for England to speak.
To say something, anything.
To call him a git, or whatever!
Whatever he said, it wouldn't matter, as long as he spoke.
America wished those emerald eyes wouldn't close.
He wished his pleas would be heard.
"Don't leave me. Don't…don't go…"
He wished he could've come sooner.
(A/N: Don't hurt me! I don't own Hetalia. Loosely based on 'Wishes' and 'Beauty From Pain' by Superchick.)