Though it feels like my veins are full of smoke and my heart is full of poems, I pretend that the next glass of wine will taste better than all the lies I've told.
That the morning rain has not come to drown me, and soaked, I pretend that there is more between us than just time, air, water and roads. But I know, I am disturbed.

I believe there is something I have lost.

So I walk along the streets at night time, 22 heartaches pass me by, and I play with my cigarette as I realize. I do not need to tell you why, my darkness is what makes me see your light. I change the subject because nothing seems to last well and rather slowly I walk away from your cell. I wish to hurry but I have no regrets. In all sincerity, I wish I was your silhouette. I wish I could...

... but you are not a wishing well.
I know, I can tell.

Its just 'cause...

I still care*
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