We trade in those who love us for nights of melancholy that depreciate our value and **** the glimmer from our eyes.

We sell our bodies in search of love.

We sell our souls in search of self.

We trade in those who love us, because love is too much.

Love costs more than it’s worth,

So we pay nothing for nothing,

And think back on nights of somethingness,

Preceding the nothingful blur of today.




I never thought I could see nothing,

Until I let something walk away.