Every day now feels like that Thursday.
When the rain just instigates for no reason.
Every day now feels like a sick day.
Except there's no home to rest.

I suppose you could be my medicine.
You could break into a million shreds
and release all of the chemicals
that give me such an ideal numbness.

Because the pills that hurt us most
are the ones that we try the hardest to swallow.
And the ones that heal us
are just too much follow.

Perhaps this is why I'll never have you.
You are the poison and the pain
that can make me smile on cue.
But I
I'm
Nothing.
Nothing but a smoke and a joke,
and a sub-par kisser.
A black hole of emotion and ambition.
Nothing.

If only she had any clue
how much life she contained in one breath.
If she only knew
how many storms she creates within me.

She is here.
And she knows nothing of the endless light within her.
The only one who does
is nothing.