"like, **** me man;
I know, I talk like this a lot,
and I get it, you're not a fan.
but I'm just trying to cope with it--
although I don't even know what I hope for.
maybe I'm just too alone.
I mean, I wanna phone to say how much I think about her,
but I don't think she'll have that;
is a hello too much to ask?
I think about those boots she liked, with the fur,
and where she put her head when she slept,
and that night I got too drunk on those flasks.
yknow, that night, we missed that band,
but if we're being honest here,
I was happy enough just sleeping with a friend.
why do I feel like this?
I told her,
and myself most of all,
'I can't do this right now. I'm prone to hurt and bound to fall'
and it was true! or, I believed it to be so,
but looking back, I think it was a defense:
it was a inherent wall
put up a long time ago to hide my lows.
and now here I am! telling you this,
hoping she didn't take part of me with her,
even as I was headed towards the door,
watching her saying goodbye,
naked,
on that old wooden floor."