hot coffee and stale cigarettes
while i reflect upon circumstances
and i suspect that the regret
will dissipate, while hope appirates
and my self confidence condensates

so i compensate for a lack of self meaning
by pushing the boundaries of what you seem
to see in them; dreaming of my next moves
like a display at the art gallery
you need to stand behind the line
while i sing "come on over Valerie"

so it's self lobotomy
as i open my mind up to the aether
and either i push forward to let go of her
or i stab the inner me that says i need her

so i make friends with the ladybirds
wasps and the ant hills and burn my lip on my cup as
i make a move to get my fills
and make peace with the fact that everything must one day

go up in smoke.

nick