they say we grow weak with every touch
but we know better.
i thought i was familiar with loneliness,
now i cry over every letter
im speaking figuratively of course,
crying's just another something i forgot
how to do
except the times i change the channels
and somehow think of you.
most of the time my days are numbered
a widened path, obscuring view
behind the bushes creep the homeless men
i have no money, i tell the truth.
A list of hobbies to occupy my time
a serious joke - im not enlightened, im just
trying to push you out the only way
i know how.
understand that, and you'll understand me
it's pathetic, but within that is a
bittersweet victory.
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