and I want to be this perfect thing that you would want to show off to your friends.
maybeyou wear long sleeves now so you don't have to feel the cold against your arms.
but your arm hair reminded me how sweet you could be. How human. How thrilled by the smallest of things.
I wonder.
Do you still have arm hair under there?
too sad to talk to
sad because no one's talking
Not talking because far away.
While you're busy being busy
I'm thinking about what we'd be doing if we were together.
One drinks and the other sinks.
One's boozing and one's losing.
Mingling,
Praying - for comfort in the form of a hug
From the right someone.
Boring,
That's it.
The condition I'm diseased with.
Think of a complicated excuse
For a simple defect.
I'm that, personified.
Guilt guilt guilt
because you can't handle my wilting.
But your voice is still the same.
(I don't hear the annoyance. So if I close my eyes I can pretend it's not there.)
So why couldn't I be?