I thought myself strong in isolation
I believed this way to be fine
But you proved I was living a lie
You shattered this illusion of mine

Is there something wrong in wanting to hold hands but you don’t want to?
The way you fling your hands away from mine
The way you wipe it off like it’s been made filthy with grime

How bad I wanna talk to you, but you don’t want to
How I hope you’ll see me next to you, but you don’t seem to
…The way you choose not to

You’re like a beautiful touch me not
Closing away at the slightest touch…my touch
I only wish I could describe it as shying away, but I know you’re not

As I sat on the toilet thinking about the stars
As the **** longingly came out of my ****
It reminded me of something that happened long ago
A memory so strange that it disrupted my flow

What was stranger was the reason for the nostalgia
To come from a action too unusual to be an Idea
What I wonder was the reason for this memory
Was it the smell or the feeling of ecstasy?

Now I try and look deeper into this memory
But it tries to run from me, seeking to be free
I try to get near and grasp it real hard
But it got away surprised by a ****

I think of ways to fulfill my cause
To win this game and end this curse
As I stay there listening to the splash underneath
An Idea enters as the slush leaves from beneath

In idea so strong that the memory was soon in my hands
A feeling of elation and of successful plans
But alas the memory faded, disappeared from my pulse
Because it was time to clean up and in the end flush