This is a nonstop situation.
And you are not ready for a nonstop, yet.
We don't have time for you to stop
And catch your breath.

I pray to god that I'll have you for another day.
But you're losing.
Oh ******* it,
You're losing.
Could you please make it more subtle?
I'm starting to panic.

I am still shocked how you can
Eat a giant spoonful of raw minced garlic.
Not only is it disgusting,
But doesn't it hurt your throat?
But I guess I do chug ***** straight from the bottle.

I asked you if it burned your throat,
And you asked me if it burned mine.
You said no,
That's why you do it.
I said yes,
That's why I do it.

I'm not sure how to explain this.
When I was younger,
I thought that when you died,
You were reincarnated
Into things that were part of nature.
But not organisms.
Wind, bodies of water, and rocks.

And the special souls were saved for storms.
The powerful and the passionate.
Hurricanes and snowstorms.
Sometimes colliding.
And I could always tell if they were fighting
Because of hatred and anger,
Or reconnecting with love and longing.
Or if it was a little of both.

I know that I am magnificent, powerful,and special
But I would love to just be waves
Constantly returning to the coast of Maine.
You and I crashing over each other
Constantly become one.
Stretching out to touch civilization,
And pulling back to our own world.
Filled with fish and boats,
And maybe someone will give us a message in a bottle to deliver.

I feel ice cold and a bit cloudy.
Like mango juice and *****.

It's kind of like staring into space.
You're not looking at anything,
But it's not as if you're looking at nothing.
And everyone around you is still moving around
Rolling in the grass
And laughing and living.
It's the last day.
No one even notices you stop
For just a few seconds.
A moment of contemplation.
No one will catch you on it.
Not even me.

And your hands wrap around
Under my thighs,
Around my hips,
And grab my stomach.
Trying to pull me closer,
And it's kind of funny to see you watching me.
So I grab your hair in my fists.
And fake it,
So I can steal my moment of contemplation.
You're lost in me,
You'll never catch me.

I'm trying not to break,
And just fill in
The little pieces of me
That have chipped off.
But it's more like covering up
Than filling in.
Have you hear about that walnut trick?
You can rub it on scratched wood,
And it looks new again.
But I feel like it would be weird
Just to rub myself with a walnut.

There was so much building up,
I was expecting more of a rocket launch.
But I was wildly mislead.
It was more of a wipe out.
And now I'm stuck.
Half in the snow bank,
And half in the middle of the road.
Either way I'm backing up traffic.

How fitting.