i've been sleeping with skeletons again lately
and drenching myself in purfume
so no one can smell my dead passion or the inspiration i always seem to lose

i keep hearing what you said and
i'm hearing dead poems being recited in my head again and i know my words will outlive me like they outlived you and that keeps me company

i've been writing things that don't make sense and sitting outside burning books again

i've been sleeping with skeletons
again
they tell me not to write these things down again

(cjw)