If I lose you after all, after this fall
After the leaves change and death fills the air
I'll just lie to myself and say you were just research for the secret book I'm narrating in my head
Internal observer, on the inside looking out
Taking notes somewhere in my cerebral cortex
Somehow without my consent the neurons fired them into my heart
And it was supposed to help me breathe but it has only become more difficult
A carefully executed experiment but apparently I have
Fallen victim to my own placebo effect
Is it real if I believe it is?
Is it like thinking happy thoughts in order to fly
What would prove as compelling evidence
I have to remain objective until
A positive correlation is made and solidified and
Thrown in my face
Maybe it's the way your Claddagh ring is still turned on its inside
And I don't know if that means you already belong to someone
Or if you think that means you belong to no one
Who understands all this fleeting symbolic **** anyway
Who really understands anything at all

Wasting my parent's money I skip algebra to lay in the grass and watch ants crawl up my arms
I can't summon the strength to face numbers and figures and x equals agony and y equals misery
And when you divide them you get a quotient sense of absolute isolation from the swarming intellectual hive of the world
I watch the clouds and ask them why living is worth all this hassle
All this nodding and smiling along never really comprehending
I ask them as if they hold all of the answers inside like they hold the rain
They tease me and slide out of view right as I grasp their responding formation
The reasons to keep going are always changing and at times drift away completely
Over the horizon leaving me
Nothing
But
Blue.

Life gives my stomach knots
Dread conquers my thoughts
I am weak, for I can take it no longer
As life goes on, it gets wronger and wronger

I look to the pills; I look to the bottle
They are kind and act as my throttle
Uppers and downers
My friendly encounters

People: my enemies
Hates and jealousies
They are all better than I could ever be
They have more than I could ever see

So what will I take today?
What will make these thoughts go away?
But they'll be back, just  like a pest
What I need is eternal rest

I do not believe in love,
    Nor in starry messengers;
and I do not believe I will ever
    be in love,
because love is for the old.

And truly, I admit, I am
      old.

Old fashioned, world weary--
The young want the moon, and the stars,
   And for love to be writ in the sky--

And though I know I am
  deserving of love,
I know I am too ****** to
    love
     the way
      the young do.