Strange,


Why does my heart,


always,

overpower my thoughts?

What a waste
It is to say
I care.
How silly of me
to think you'd share.
I Can stare with you
For hours as
we lay there.
But without a care,
You whisper I'm the spare.
As your heart lies in despair,
Over a line of states.
Now I'm here with tears.
Wasting away
with silly little
Words of love.

Where to hide,
But in a bottle.
For the night I long, could never
cover me.
Though even in my drunken stupors,
I feel a longer of that touch..
And with it carries a phrase.
Oh how you dared to throw me out
before a sound.
I long for the night,
the cold box of sanity I reach
for in the bottle with your name.

What of words?
If you only repeat,
and not seek of your
own.