Twenty-four minutes seems a lot longer
when I fall into my thoughts of you and how much I miss you.
I know that this time probably,
Probably is the end
so I'm planning ahead;
tonight I'll drink
Take a walk around the neighborhood looking for advise
in the bending of trees
or
search for some romantic depth
in the spot where the streetlights
can no longer illuminate the Road. Tomorrow, I'll be worse than today,
I'll start pretending to be okay.
I can't wait until I have another life
to pass the time
as I dread falling asleep missing you.