droplets of dark
fill a pool of sorrow
those forgotten pangs
return to haunt
the sound of your voice
with your touch on my hip
and i am nothing.

like melted ice
in a puddle on the floor
how do i return
and where do i begin
hurting so deep
like a forgotten soul
and i am nothing.

emptied beer bottle
standing abandoned and lone
heart scraping the floor
tears stand barren
and not withstanding the force
crying seems not an option
and i am nothing.

tears to me defy.
i asked.
my eyes won't reply.
my heart taken to task.
i only hear me sigh.
i hope it won't last.
maybe, baby, i'm just a mask.

you are my obsession,
this seems not a simple regression.
i draw on all my strength,
to keep you at arm's length.
but every time you call,
my heart takes a fall.
you are no good for me,
i can so clearly see.
but yet i confess,
i can stop myself no less.

so pretty,
those butterflies
pity i hate them
detest them with a childhood whim
striking colors,
so amusing.
they flit,
they float,
they die.

twiddle dee and twiddle dumb
who so sees the futile jump
spinning tops and random shops
we but fly yet seem to flop
rhythms tapping out of beat
he tries and so keeps to the heat
flames flare with no care
my thoughts to you shall share

intent and hell bent,
to escape and to pretend.
that all's well,
and nothing else.
i pause to run,
and simply because there's no fun.
to say i am not sad,
and it isn't all that bad.
but seriously,
as i sprint furiously,
who am i kidding,
if i am not fibbing.
it's all pretense,
and it's my only defense.

for fear you jeer,
in self-preservation, it's clear.
we bring ourselves so low,
sometimes, the moment gets cold.
sign of weakness,
we stretch, at our thinnest.
huddled in self-obsession,
truths hidden from confession.
for who we yearn,
yet we never could earn.
this day we part,
quite really, presents an art.