I'm in a world of friends
with strange faces,
hipster clothing,
and lives
that I no longer relate to

And I watch them pass me by
Like snow dunes on the side of the road

darling, it's all a matter of
perception
how you see it

looking out from
parallel shores
we are glimpses
of more
in the distance
strangers to
burnt-out street lamps
and burnt-out sweethearts

darling
it's all a matter of
persepshun
how you feel it

vibrate in your
fingertips
dance upon your
skin with needlepoint
toes
bells resonating
in your ears,
a troubled storm abrew

darling, it's all a matter of
pearshipshon
how you taste it

another glass, more
*****, please
another burning trail
down your throat
the only kind
of warmth
we know

darling,
*it's all a matter of per-cep-tion

i'm in love with words,
but afraid of voices.
silence is both beautiful
and terrifying,
because thoughts just
never seem to sleep.
no one seems
to really understand,
because although
these voices
never stop talking,
the words themselves
are often too
quiet to speak.