Nov 2013
I am I am I am.
Am I, or does it all rest in the old cellar
Of resigned wishes and clawed fingertips
Reaching toward all things unattainable?
I am I am I am.
Am I, or is it merely the deceiving sky
Raining ice crystals on my heavy heart?
On moist cement I wait with curled knees.
I am I am I am.
Am I, or shall I call the old lover in hopes
Of receiving the closure that never came?
Apathy is my love. Solitude is my love.
I am I am I am.
Am I, or does it all rest in the old cellar
Of resigned wishes and clawed fingertips
Reaching toward all things unattainable?
I am I am I am.
Am I, or is it merely the deceiving sky
Raining ice crystals on my heavy heart?
On moist cement I wait with curled knees.
I am I am I am.
Am I, or shall I call the old lover in hopes
Of receiving the closure that never came?
Apathy is my love. Solitude is my love.
I am I am I am.
