i can't look into your alabaster eyes
and not see that girl who soaked my soul in espresso and cigarettes
but whether or not she's really there-
well, other people would probably set me straight

but i sigh,
spinning myself around a plastic idea of you-
silken and careful

and i do not think we'll repair
what i know is much too shattered
but i'd like to hold the pieces of you
if not for one last time

maybe the last 4 months
have gone straight up your nose
and i know i can't cradle you anymore
but i'll exist in this love-struck fantasy  until it fades completely
and with it, i may very well go.