The guitar notes float down
from the upstairs window.
The neighbor man has the blues
again and I realize he’s not alone.
Seven years worth of memories
make for a heavy, heavy weight.
To attach like an overgrown leech
starved only because of my own ignorance
will lead to a dark and lonely death.
I can't help but think that you find pleasure
in this game of back and forth we've been playing.
Do you know what it feels like to always be
somebody's second choice? An afterthought?