I say that I am fine, yet I still find myself daydreaming about kissing you again
But though you plague my mind, I can get drunk without texting you
(or, at least, I won't press send)
I'm just searching in the sun for things my hands crave but yet cannot reach
The sun is too hot to the touch and the sky is out of my limits
And my hands are needed to protect my eyes from the glare; leaving none spare
To catch all the glitter and gold that falls from above
So instead I find that once again I am staring at the ground
Looking at all the old fallen things that have been trampled on
Brass buttons that have rusted from the rain
Oil stains that look like rainbows, a colourful puddle on the floor
Crawling on my hands and knees, searching for more
Reasons to make myself miserable