Nothing else matters,
you cry in your sleep,
the tears I've collected
I bury them deep,
I haven't denied it's the
feeling I chase,
I feel pins and needles - tomorrow
I'll waste,
Who cares if the sun is a
light year away,
or hovering over too close -
you could say,
I mustn't aspire to every desire,
sarcastic reaction to
self-satisfaction.