I'm not me, I think
Or at least I thought I wasn't.....
That is I thought I wasn't who I was.
Well, I'm not who I was.
Which is to say, a good thing.
I think.
I think I am who I am.
I think I know who I am.....
Or at least I thought I knew who I was.
But now I'm
Thinking
When I've already thought.
And I guess I've thought a lot....
Who would think to overthink
Me?

It's funny how I glorified your words
Made them up to be
Immense and powerful
Beautiful and dynamic
Hypnotic and true.
Looking back they are not much more
Then ramblings
Strewn out on an empty page
To fill space.

I waited for so long for the warmth
Of the sun.
Stared out at a coat of white
From my window
Wishing for the green to return.
Now it's back, but I am gone
And now I sit
Staring at what I had wished for
Wondering if it will ever look
As wonderful as it seemed.

Your broken words
Echo in my empty mind
And fill my eyes
With emptier tears
It's a miracle
We ever laughed at all

Out of my mind
But in touch
With my position
On this planet
Because gravity
And the fear of flying
Are the only things
Holding me down

You used to write about me,
Do you remember?
You compared my skin to satin
My voice to sirens,
My touch to heaven.
You must've thrown them all away
They're gone from your records.
Now you have a new muse.
And her skin is satin,
Her voice, of a siren,
Her touch is heaven.