i hate her for showing me songs like Daisy, You Are A Liar (now even music has me longing for her)

every now and again i can't help but feel down

but that's because i'm always looking up, staring

at the clouds makes me feel so silly for believing

we are infinite or that our problems are anything

worth wasting time calculating out solutions.



i sleep, eat, work, eat, sleep, and repeat

like my days our numbered. already got

a routine that will have me put down, rest-

ing in an early grave. can't stand the test's

that come with every second of existence.



we invented letters to create words so

we can make words, learn to speak to each other.

but it was in vain, most sentences are ploy's

to describe the things opposite we wanna share.

each night i shed my body of clothes and lies.



water too hot, food too cold, phone too quiet,

head too heavy, memory too full, too content.

got this thing where i can't enjoy satisfaction.

doesn't matter when or where; or even

with whom because the same is what i'll remain.



i smile in photo's and pose for pictures

but the grin is forced beyond all senses

ability to interpret. when i see faces

i gotta fight off the need to run to a place

that's anywhere but where she shows her face.



not that i hate her, quite the contrary;

it's just i got nothing to say; in a memory

is where i am the best possible me.

when she occasionally reflects on the way

time has come and gone so fast, i hope i be

the face that comes to mind when she remembers

it wasn't all as bad as it has been lately.



i can't be there to hold her hand, cannot

be the one to hold her head above the torrent

of water. regret is the only feeling i understand,

but still, small talk is something i don't comprehend.

been so long, i wonder if you'd find me odder than

before; or if my awkwardness is the part of me in

once you said, 'what a silly boy, will be a silly man.'



rain makes me feel a little better, reminds me

i'm not the only thing that cry's relentlessly.

god's angels shed tears for human kind's history;

where as i, i just cry because of the theory

that seems to become evident with each passing day.



no matter what i say or where i go or who i know

it ends the same, me hitchhiking outta town, now

way before sunrise, can't bare to have another

woman possess the power to break me at their

whim; asked for peace but i got pieces of serenity.