You can't hear me talk, can barely hear me sing
My apologies fall deaf on you and what washes over, stings
I fall head first into your ocean, enveloped in waves of rough cement
But through this capture you are peaceful
My battered form makes you content

It's funny how they call the past, the past,
And not the present
You greet the currency of times with nothing but resent
You tell me you know what I see
Laugh toothily as I fall to my knees
Engulfed with pain deeper, than my own
As I watch you fall steeper

It is impossible to stamp the blame
To disrupt your flawless form
I wouldn't dare to place a mark on you, nor tell you what you've worn
I'll motivate my stiffened mind, though you tell me that I can't
Collective moments form the clog
And I have become the ant

It comes as no surprise that
Your comfort scares me so
Behind each understanding is a reckless anecdote
A fury-littered monologue
A venom worded rant
The apology won't matter
Cause I am still the ant

It's difficult to swallow, though
My pills were hours ago
I softly stroke the future that I know is doomed, but floats
It treads above the water, as buoyant as it can
I guess future doesn't matter
I will always be the ant.