you are an ache somewhere between my stomach and spine
(i'll forgive you, friend)
you are my writers block
(forgive me and we can be in love again)
and the panic that i've misplaced something important
(forgive me)
that wakes me up at night

if you are a scab that won't heal
i am the one full of grass and childish metaphor
who won't stop picking at it
isn't this just another version of the classic story,
shouldn't i have learned by now that
bringing something back from the dead
doesn't return it to it's original state?

doesn't this in turn make you a waste of time
(i'll forgive you, friend)
doesn't this make you a painful habit
(forgive me, and we can be in love again)
burning smoke in my lungs and i'm coughing
i'm coughing but please
(forgive me)