You broke into my heart
like a vagabond, drifting in and out;
and I smelled the American spirit
you left behind;
the cherry burning
left a scar on my conscience
like the word selfish, uttered insipidly by your lips;
and I was broken, pumping not blood
but frozen memories from my veins.

And the feeling still haunts me--
of being ignored by the one I love;
I thought it shouldn't bother me,
we've barely met, and yet
when we talk I can feel your energy
flowing into laughter, from one heart
to an other. There is no other.

Now I'm the drifter, listlessly annoyed;
I thought you were the one,
but now its me that you avoid.
A, void, avoid. I feel the emptiness
without you--the one I told you about,
the one that makes me feel death
creeping into my very hands,
yearning for a radical change I cant deny,
nor desire.